


New York: Become Heroes

by Cyberlife_Creed_28



Category: Detroit: Become Human, Irondad/Spiderson - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-04 00:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberlife_Creed_28/pseuds/Cyberlife_Creed_28
Summary: Activate_Android_Analysis: ConfirmOne_Moment_Please_:Analysis_Successful_:Proceed_To_Analysis:-IM-500(Registered_Name_TONY) Created_May_29_1970: Owned_by: Howard_&_Maria_Stark_-BCK-991(Registered_Name_BUCKY)-Created_July_4th_1953_Currently_stored_in_Cyberlife_Warehouse_LK-200(Registered_Name_LOKI)-Created_May_2nd_2011_Location_UnknownYK-900(Registered_Name_PETER)- Created_ July_19_2016_Owned by: May ParkerCA-300(Registered_Name_STEVE) - Created_July_4th_1942_recently_reactivated: stored_in Cyberlife_until_further_noticeTR-500(Registered_Name_THOR)- Data_Unknown_Location_Unknown_An Alternate universe where our favorite superheroes are androids; each with their own experiences. I tried to be as realistic as possible and try not to lean too much on the DBH storyline, and I hope this works out. I was very proud of this piece, and I consider it the best (out of my thousands of unpublished pieces). I hope you all think so, too.(Warning; I'm a sucker for Irondad, so you're definitely going to be seeing a bit of that, and it's too good to keep off.)





	1. Chapter 1

The android could hear the conflict coming closer. Even when locked tight in a human sized crate, the screaming voices, spraying bullets, and dropping bodies was obvious and clear. Noises the machine was all but used to. He was programmed to shut out the sounds years ago, so the voices of men screaming commands and collapsing on a concrete floor were all but meaningless to him. He stared at the black styrofoam lid that enclosed him, face devoid of any sort of emotion, the only light source being the lazy whirring blue glow of his circular LED crested into his temple. He didn't know how long he had been in there, or how long ago the fighting had endured. All he knew of was the darkness that enclosed him like a coffin. 

His arms and legs were immobile, so the android didn't bother trying to lift them. An effect only active by mild stasis mode which didn't count as operational, but wasn't exactly in full shutdown either. As far as he knew, hearing and seeing were all he was capable of doing at the moment. The rest; such as moving, thinking, or speaking; were out of the question. It was almost like......... what did humans call it? Dreaming? Yes, dreaming. Being able to feel and listen to everything around you but helpless to it. The machine hated it. He was supposed be out there right now, fighting whatever is attacking. He knew he should, and he was positive he could. If someone could deactivate the mode he was stuck in, he'd punch the box lid open, crawl out, and start strangling the first sign of distress. It never mattered who. Give him a target, and innocent or not, he would take it. Hell, he'd take down a five year old after just one word, which made lying on his back in this container all the more irritating.

After what seemed an endless time, the distant shouts and commands were silenced when the last body dropped to the floor. From the hopeless shouting of men who knew they were surrounded but pointlessly trying to fight back nevertheless, to dead silence, to the point where a mouse would be loud as a megaphone. The lack of sound made the android the nearest it could to being considered blind to his surroundings since there was no trails for him to catch. He wondered if maybe the bloodshed was all the attackers needed, and would eventually leave. He was proved wrong when his advanced hearing sensors had heard footsteps of leather boots of all shapes and sizes, scattering around the warehouse, seeming to be in search for something. For a reason the android could not understand, these footsteps seemed a little...... different. They weren't sloppy and heavy as humans' steps were. Instead, they were calculated to the last digit, and didn't press down so heavily, making a more padded and quiet sound, meaning these trespassers were either well trained or naturally light on their feet. They scattered like bees across the building, given the number of coming and receding steps. Out of all of them, two seemed a little more rushed than the others. And they were getting louder after every footstep.

"CA-300," a thundering voice boomed through the echoing walls, though slightly muffled by the cardboard. "Report registered name."

The paralyzed android would have proudly called out his name, but his stasis mode prevented him from doing such, forcing him to ignore the order clearly meant for him. The two figures waited for a few minutes for a response, but they never got one.

"Do we even know if he's here?" a sort of accented voice spoke, muffled by the enclosed space the machine was inside.

"I do not see why he wouldn't be," the deeper voice; also accented; said. "All evidence leads to this place. Unless he somehow got stolen during the night, he should be here."

"You don't sound very confident," the other said. "We only have so much time before those darts wear off. This android better be worth it."

"He will be, brother. Now shut up and start looking through these boxes."

After a grumble, he heard the clatter of moving containers, rushed and ungraceful, most likely because they were on a time limit given the tense way they moved things. 

It was a minute and thirty-seven seconds before the android heard a slight thump on his lid. Then a click. Then another one. And the next thing he knew, pouring white light bled out through the lid, and it was thrown open.

Humans would have hissed and covered their eyes at the sudden brightness. Heck, even androids could since it could sometimes slightly damage their visual sensors if the change is too quick to adjust to. Same as before though, the android remained unscathed through the blurry white that was his eyesight. He hadn't even settled his eyesight before the second figure spoke up, much clearer now that there was no filter to block the sound.

"He's over here!"

It barely got out his mouth before the clomping footsteps had raced right to his side, next to the one that found him. With his eyesight fully adjusted now, the android could finally see the two men above him.

They were complete opposites between each other was the first thing the android noted. The one to his left held slicked black hair that barely reached shoulder length. His paled face structure was angled and sharp, such as a sharp but short jaw, pointed cheekbones, a hooked nose, and thin lips no thicker than a strand of hair. His brows furrowed in concentration, roofing two green-blue eyes. The blue LED on his forehead stuck out greatly with his character, standing out like an elephant in a zebra herd. The man's eyes screamed trouble and turmoil, which already made the android feel slightly on edge. Though he'd have loved to run away, he was given no orders to do so, so he remained silent and compliant (plus the stasis was keeping him still, so there was that also). The other man, however, had given a much different feel to him. His skin was a little peachier and more human looking against the man that looked whiter than snow. His hair was a light brown that was short cut but had left more of a frizz at the top of his head along with a thick beard that both hardened and softened his expression at the same time, making him look much more normal compared to the man that looked like Lucifer in human skin. His face was smooth and carven, with blue eyes that was nearly the same color as his LED, and thick but neat eyebrows that also frowned at seeing the android lying so stiffly in the case.

"He's in stasis," the dark haired one explained confidently.

"Bloody humans put a living being in a suitcase," the brunette snarled with a low voice that was accenting what he discovered was British. "What next? Fridges?"

If he had control of his body, he'd have fought against the fingers that pressed into his LED, but he stood statue still, unwillingly letting whatever this stranger was doing happen.

"CA-300," the man ordered. "Commence protocol #310766314."

Almost like magic, the android's arms and legs whirred back to life with a mechanical whine, letting him regain control of his systems once again. He blinked a few times just to clear his head, and the moment he felt he could, had sat himself up from the seat robotically, still keeping his eyes forward like he was programmed to.

"Report registered name," the man ordered again, still not moving his hand from the LED. Given his returned ability to speak, the android let the response come out of his mouth.

"Steve Rogers, reporting for duty."


	2. There is only one happiness in life: to love and be loved."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who commented my work, I am beyond grateful for you guys for giving me this new confidence to finish this piece. Thanks to you guys, I'm finally getting out of my bubble and asking for help, which is a feat I don't do easily, because now I want this perfect for you all. So as thanks, here's our favorite teen for ya cuz I frickin' love him ^^:D

May was asleep on the desk again, resting her head on the piles of paper in front of her. She could almost never file her bills before passing out these days, leaving Peter to finish them for her. Not that he minded, though. It was just a little disheartening to see his owner so low on energy recently. Since coming back to the hospital with the knowledge of the cancer growing in her lung, she'd been much more tired lately, actually letting Peter do some house work for once in the 21 years he'd been with her.

 

When Peter first arrived, May had absolutely spoiled him for some reason. When he offered to do work, she turned him down, claiming that he must have been exhausted over his trip here, which he wasn't, and was in fact waiting eagerly for his first chore. She had even bought him human clothes and refused to let him wear his Cyberlife outfit. "You're as human as any of us, Peter. I don't want anything to make you think otherwise."

 

In other words, she had him get rid of anything non-essential that came from Cyberlife; his suit, his 'remote'(which was like a manual order stick), and any other belongings that were meant to keep him intact. The only sign of what he was was just the single circular light on his temple, and even there, he could tell that May would have loved to rip that thing off. She never did, since she's openly admitted that she's afraid of hurting him, which was impossible. In other words, May was the sweetest human he'd ever met, and he was beyond lucky to have her. In return to her kindness, he helped with the house chores, despite her polite refusal, and helped to things that she couldn't normally do herself, like taking heavy boxes into the attic when the place was too filled to walk straight, making a meal when she came home, or doing laundry if she was in one of her late shifts. It was a working procedure, since he was an android and was practically designed for house maintenance.

 

When he wasn't the house maid, he was the house child; the other part of his job. To a human's eyes, Peter would be fifteen, and his creators seemed to think it best that he could act like one if necessary. So sometimes in his free time he'd find himself tinkering with legos or playing a precise hour of video games or just plain losing himself in a movie. That was where the YK part of him would take place. Not only did he act like one, but there were also some other notions that he didn't completely understand yet, and it was that he LOVED to cuddle. In quiet nights, he'd be lying on May's lap watching TV as she gently combed his curls with her fingers. Those were the times he found most enjoyable, and he could tell May did as well, since that was the one thing that could always calm her down after a long day's work. It was very disheartening discovering her hidden cancer, and the almost confirmation that she had less than a month left. Since then, Peter had been extra loving, going for cuddles more often and making sure she was comfortable.

Slowly crouching down to May's eye level, he lay a soothing hand on her shoulder, softly nudging her awake.

 

"May," he said quietly, "it's time to wake up."

 

With a quiet moan, her dark chocolate eyes fluttered open drowsily, eyelids wrinkling at the motion.Her long gray/white hair was splattered over the papers sloppily, making the desk look like it was strung with yarn. Her orange rimmed glasses were only holding onto centimeters of her face, moments away from slipping off and collapsing to the floor. Knowing she wouldn't mind, Peter had taken the glasses off her face to ensure that they wouldn't fall and break, because he knew that she couldn't have afforded to fix them. Taking it slow, she muffled a yawn by covering her mouth with her wrinkled hand and sat herself up at snail's pace, her once drooping face now pinched with every pop her ancient bones made. Eventually, she stood upright, looking Peter in the eyes with an exhausted smile.

"Fell asleep again, didn't I?" she asked, her voice worn out but soft nonetheless.

 

"Yes, you did," Peter confirmer. "I made dinner, May. It might go cold if we wait any longer."

 

"Of course you did," May mused lovingly. "My kind little boy who makes every meal despite not being forced to. What did I do to deserve you?"

"Hey, you stole my line," Peter teased. Yeah he was an android, but that doesn't mean he was programmed without a sense of humor. He may be a machine but that doesn't mean he was completely dull.

 

Helping May from the uncomfortable chair, he led the woman to the table where he served a perfectly cooked spaghetti and meatballs; her favorite meal. There, they ate in a comfortable silence. And yes, before you ask, Peter's specific model was able to eat human food, but it was an option that could be turned off if needed. He was somewhat reluctant when May started making food for him, not feeling comfortable wasting perfect food when he didn't really NEED to eat, but she insisted, and now it has become a normal thing for him to sit down and eat with her, with no objections. Honestly, he enjoyed eating with her. Not only was it pleasant when the food met his taste sensors, but it was a way to actually take a step into reality. Though it was a proven fact that he would never be human and feel and have emotions as they did, it was comforting knowing that he could at least get close enough to be happy with himself.

 

"You know I love you, right?" May said suddenly, and Peter couldn't help but feel a ping inside him. Something he couldn't really describe, but felt like his thirium pump had halted for a few seconds. She's said things close to that, but never flat out said the L word so openly. And for once, Peter had nothing to say, and trusted himself to nod once. How could someone love a machine, he wondered. All he was was a computer disguised as a child, and she loved him? It made no sense to him and reminded him of how little he knew of humans and their way of thinking.

 

"And I greatly appreciate all the kindness you've given me these past few years," was all he could say, too paranoid to have that word come out of his mouth yet. He made a vow that he would one day, but it wouldn't be today. She didn't seem to disappointed that he didn't say it back, and smiled one of her greatest smiles; one that could melt Antarctica.

 

"Only the best for my little boy."

 

Now it was Peter's turn to smile. He greatly enjoyed when she called him her boy. So they went back to scraping up the last of their dinner, and when they were done, of course Peter offered to do dishes, but May had refused, claiming it was about time she did something herself, and that she'd give him popcorn if he picked a movie while he waited. It wasn't an order, he reminded himself, but a favor. So he reluctantly went into the living room, pulling up a movie he favored more than the others; Star Wars. He just couldn't seem to get enough of it and wished to see it so many times, expecting it to get old from May, but she never stopped him. He knew nearly every scene and all the lines, and had found out nearly every secret the series had to offer. He even had a few Star Wars themed lego builds in his room at that moment that Ned, the first person other than May to accept him, helped to build. In other words, Peter was a total fanboy, and he was proud of it.

 

He waited patiently for May to come back, and after he heard the dishwasher running, signaling her finish, Peter had made sure to set up the pillows and blankets to make her comfortable when she sat down. But as he was reaching for the remote to begin the movie, he heard May cry out in pain, and then the shattering of glass followed by a loud bump.

 

Peter's senses skyrocketed as his head jerked to the noise, finding May on the floor, holding her ribs as her face spelled pain. He was on his feet in less than a second, racing towards her and dropping down to her, ignoring the glass and scattered popcorn on the floor. No later than when he kneeled down, she had started coughing harshly, closer than Peter would like to hacking out her lungs.

 

"May! Are you okay?!" Peter didn't know why he asked such an obvious question since they both already knew. So instead, he remembered the treatment and raced into the kitchen, pulling out her mineral water and a few other cancer-killing foods and bringing it back to her. What made his thirium pump stop was seeing the blood crawling out of her lips. Thankfully, the worst of the coughs had let up, and she was wheezing on the floor, cradling her ribs. He got down again and gave her the water and foods, which she took and swallowed down greedily. They spent a few minutes down there, Peter watching her for any signs of the cancer attack getting worse. But after a little while, it looked like the pain subsided as May slowly relaxed, slowly dropping the hand that was clinging to her rib.

"I'm okay," she said in a dry tone from the coughing. "I'm alright."

 

It was a lie, and both of them knew it. It gave Peter this sense of dread every time he saw something like this happen. A few times he wasn't even there to help. He never liked this feeling that crept up on him at the thought of his parent owner dying like this. It somehow made him want to stuff it all under the bed and ignore what was in front of him, but he knew that it was futile. Whether he wanted it to or not, her time was coming, and Peter would have to be there to witness it.

 

This was one of the few times Peter secretly wished that he could age like she could. He wished that he didn't stay so dirt young while she withered away right in front of him. But the thought passed like a shadow as he reminded himself that what he was asking for was impossible, and that there was no reason hoping for it. So he did the only thing he knew he could do; he cleaned up the mess, ignoring how May was trying to stop him. He picked up the pieces of glass, ignoring how they cut into his synthetic skin, dripping out his deep blue blood on the floor. He was only able to stop when May had actually raised her voice.

 

"Peter, I command you to stop!"

 

He had no choice at that point. He involuntarily stopped right there, frozen at the spot in a forced standby mode, his fist still clenching the bits of blue stained glass. His back was turned to her, so he couldn't see her stand herself up and make her way towards him. He only saw once his stilled eyes met May's tearing up ones.

 

"Don't do this to yourself, Peter," she choked out. Peter was having a hard time figuring out if that was another order or just another suggestion. Of all else, it just sounded like a prayer; the quiet ones she would say at night, kneeling over her bed as she whispered blessings to the sky. He would have felt a little warmed at the gentleness of her tone, but he was a little busy trying to figure out what she meant. Did she not want him cleaning glass anymore? Or did she mean that he should be doing something else? Should he be dusting the shelves instead? His mechanical brain was whizzing with questions, which caught him off guard when May had suddenly gathered him into her arms, crying out openly.

 

If his mind was on overtime, it had completely died at that moment. This was completely out of his zone right now. May had never done something like this before, and had no clue what it was supposed to mean. He felt like he should be doing something, but he just remains frozen, letting May soak his shoulder in tears. Eventually she cried herself out and eventually unwrapped Peter from what felt like a contained confinement that was taking it easy on him.

 

"I'm so sorry," she eventually said. "I should never have ordered you like that. It was cruel of me."

"But that is in my programming," Peter said. "That's what you're supposed to say to me, and I don't fully understand why you haven't until now."

 

"Because no one should have to be forced around against their will."

 

"That is our reason in life, May," Peter defended. "We are servants to humans, and that's all we're ever going to be."

 

"Peter, don't talk like that," May demanded, cupping her hands over Peter's cheeks like she has done so many times now. "You are NOT a servant. You are a living being with free will and should be treated as such. Your blood may not be the same color as humans, but you have a life. You would never have been so gentle and kind to me all this time if you weren't."

 

Peter wanted to believe her. Truly, he did. But that's like telling a pony that it's a unicorn. As much as he wanted to believe that she was right, the odds were against her. So, not wanting to argue anymore, he kept silent, hoping that she would give up. But she was persistent.

 

"I want you to say it, Peter," she insisted. At first, he couldn't bring himself to say the words, but May was rubbing his cheeks so gently with her thumbs and her eyes shined with hope. How could he refuse when she was looking at him like he could raise mountains? "Say it."

"...........I'm alive," he mumbled quietly.

"I didn't hear you, Pete."

 

"I'm alive," he said louder, the words tasting bitter in his mouth but said them nonetheless.

 

It seemed to do the trick for her, because she smiled through pooling eyes. She looked only moments away from crying again, but she looked like she was holding together for his sake, though she really didn't need to.

 

"Now, whenever someone may try beating you down or using you in a way they shouldn't, I want you to say that to yourself, okay?"

 

He didn't respond immediately, but May fixed that problem very quick. "Can you do that?" At that point, he just nodded his head lightly, mouthing off a quiet 'okay'.

 

After that, Peter ended up ignoring the mess on the floor hence May's request, and after getting Peter's hand wrapped up in a special android gauze, they sat together on the couch rewatching Empire Strikes Back, with Peter's head resting on May's lap while she combed through his curls once more. He couldn't help but think about what she said if not for a few moments. What if he really _was_ alive? What if there was a way for him to somehow stop taking orders and be himself? **_No_** , his common sense protocol denied. **_You are a servant to humans, and always will be._**

 

Mentally shaking his head of such stupid thoughts, Peter listened to his protocol, since that was the most intelligent sense he had. If it dubbed him a servant, then a servant he was. He remembered a documentary that he watched quite a while ago. It said that anything with a beating heart was considered alive.

**_Androids don't have hearts_** , his protocol scolded. And he agreed the moment it was said. Maybe slipping into rest mode would clear such foolish thoughts from my head, he guessed. So, with no further interruptions, Peter had slipped his eyes shut, 'falling asleep' to the feeling of May raking her fingers through his hair.


	3. "Pretending That we Live Doesn't Make us Alive."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be a little more flawed since I was in a bit of a hurry to finish this one, but I swear I'm going to keep the others coming as long as I can. ^^^

It was hard for Tony to act like he was something he's not. Because he was supposed to be Tony Stark; the genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist; CEO of Stark Industries and a loved man by all. Not........... an android who's pretended that he was human for years to the point where he'd almost lost himself in the process.

Tony knew he was alive. He discovered that after being abducted and tortured in Afghanistan, where he gained his own consciousness and free will. But what could he have done with it? His original owners; the Starks; had openly admitted that they only bought him for the sake of the company, since they could make no child and needed an heir. But intense measurements had to be made. They didn't know how to take off his LED, so instead they buried it in fake skin. Luckily for them, he was designed to have a bit of a charm, so it didn't take long until he became their precious little heir to the Stark throne, the powerful, confident man you found on the news who openly insulted the government with a sass. You'd have never known he was but a confused android who could barely hold his head up when he was alone. He could have at least been able to bear the burden if his 'owners' were around to help him. But they left this world far too soon, leaving him more questions than answers. He would have quit the job and wander aimlessly through the streets for a purpose, but he was too deep down this rabbit hole. Deep enough that he couldn't even spot the sun. So Tony had no choice but to just dig deeper down and pray for a miracle.

One of the few upsides of his creation was his natural knack to invent machines that people have only dreamed of. Flying cars? Done. Clean affordable energy? Taken care of. Ironic, isn't it? That he had the ability to create and repair any kind of machine, yet he couldn't even fix himself.

FRIDAY; his AI that was installed into the tower, was a great help. Just to have a conversation; AI to AI. She may not have been as free thinking as he was, despite his best attempts, but she knew his language, and they could talk like civilized manmade machines.

The worst part about acting like a human was him being forced to keep a straight face at things that he would have bawled over if given the chance and pretending it did nothing at all to offend him. Unfortunately, he found himself stuck in those situations more often than not.

"Mr. Stark, you can't keep ignoring this forever," Jason Graff, Director of Cyberlife, had said during a meeting. "Whether we like it or not, Deviancy is spreading through our androids like wildfire, and it must be dealt with."

"And of all people, you come to me?" Tony asked, slouching and crossing his legs on the leather seat to the conference table, looking anything but professional if not for the fancy suit and red rimmed glasses.  
"Everyone must be involved in this, sir," Graff explained. "Our deviants are catching a virus that stops them from working and is giving them false notions about being alive, and it must be taken care of. If not, we're looking at a war against Artificial Intelligence machines that don't feel pain."

"Again, I don't see what this has to do with me," Tony said boredly (something only he could have been capable of pulling off).

"Mr. Stark, you reinvented a long lost element in the elemental table while being on your own death bed," Graff said. "It's no question that you could give us some valuable insight. Once we find a solution, we'll round up any and all androids and make sure that no machine gets the petty notion of being a living being ever again. Once androids get back to normal, we can double your pay for the price of the cure. If it goes as far as I think it will, it will make both of us much richer."

Damn humans, Tony snarled in his head. Always think its about the money.

"And if you wouldn't mind, we might need a few androids you have to offer to test the bug. Any that might be doing less work than usual or being known to have opinions."

"I've checked the base five times, Graff. There is nothing wrong with my androids. They're working the hardest they can and don't bother anyone."  
In a way, he liked to think that he was complimenting his well working android helpers as well as protecting them. Thankfully, Graff didn't question him and dropped the matter.

"Lucky you. I've already had to shut down hundreds of androids that started going off. I'd keep your machines in confinement until we figure this out."

"So back to the main topic," he finished. "You want MY advice for something that's wrong with YOUR androids that are starting to act up? Isn't Cyberlife supposed to be ready for this kind of crap?"

"Running an android business is harder than it looks, Mr. Stark," Graff demanded, "and this isn't about Cyberlife anymore. People could be in danger if their androids go rogue and try going out for their own twisted version of revenge."

"Who says they wouldn't deserve it?" Tony demanded, eyes hard. "What, you find a beaten android defending itself and suddenly it's the bad guy? I know these machines, Mr. Graff. I helped design them myself, and there is no aggression in their systems."

"Deviants do, Mr. Stark," Graff pointed out. "Sure, they're completely passive as machines, but coming this glitch, they can be unpredictable."

"So what's your great plan on stopping this?"

The man seemed to be happy that he asked as he pulled out his phone, clicked a button, and a 3D blue hologram showed up, revealing what looked like an advanced candle fifty stories high with a blue fire spurting out on top wildly and untamable. Just the sight of it made his thirium pump clench painfully in tension. He didn't even know what it was yet, and he already made it his main goal to stop whatever it was from being released.

"This is Project Retrograde," the man announced proudly. "The structure is not yet built, but the science has been confirmed to work. Once the tower is up, the bug will be sent into the air in a gas-like form. That way, any android will be reverted back to the way they're supposed to be."

"A gas?" Tony asked, feigning doubt though internally panicking. "That's a very risky way to get this done."

"We've already studied the science several times, Mr. Stark. The gas is clean to humans."

"And if it isn't?" Tony demanded. "Say you do send out this virus. Say androids are reverted back. What if your gas isn't as selective as you claim? You'd have millions of sick, or possible dying people's blood on your hands all because you were trying to show off. Are you sure you want Cyberlife to be the ones responsible for releasing the next Red Death?"

"The calculations are confirmed, Mr. Stark," Graff insisted. "I wouldn't have shown this to you if I wasn't fully confident of the results."

"Sorry, but I'm not feeling all that assured. It's too risky for me."

"This is what needs to be done, Mr. Stark," he demanded.

"Say what you like, Mr. Graff," Tony snapped. "This has too many risks to be considered safe. Find another way to get rid of deviancy, because I've got no help for you until you find something that won't bite my ass later. Now if that all, then I'll take my leave and bid you adieu."

With that, he stood himself up and made his way to the glass door with a mocking posture of professionalism.

"Deviancy will only spread if we don't do something, Stark!" Graff called out behind him. "It won't be long until one of your own started holding a knife to your throat! Project Retrograde will be completed with or without your help!"


	4. "Change is Hard At First, Messy in the Middle, and Gorgeous in the End."

Thor and Loki were on the other side of the room, watching Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, back straight as a rod and posture unbreakable as he stared at nothing, like he was just waiting for someone to call his name and tell him to jump off into war.

 

Thor had always heard about the great Steve Rogers; the first working and realistic android on earth. He was a hero during World War 2, and won battle by battle through blood. Not only was he the first android, but he was also the first to ever 'deviate', like the humans called it. He heard that he became very more compassionate after the war, helping pedestrians get out of the fight before charging in. Then he started disagreeing with his side of the war's choice on how to run things. That was when they abducted a girl that he fell in love with, and deviant or not, he was forced to apply. It was after the fighting was over that they threw him off a bridge and into a frozen river, where he was assumed deactivated for over a hundred years.

 

Thor always admired the android from history. He found his story intriguing and just how little humans knew back then to make the first ever android to fight in battle and deviate all the same. That was his inspiration, he liked to think. If the first ever android had awakened, then that meant that it was what was supposed to happen. Androids were living beings, no matter what humans liked to say, and Thor had made it his personal mission in life to make sure that humans themselves believed and accepted it, one way or another.

 

"This one is no deviant, brother," Loki spoke up, frowning at the immobile android in the room.

 

"He has to be," he denied. "They must have done something in order to reactivate him."

 

"So the question is what are we going to do about it? He's too old a model to be able to interphase, and he won't listen to anybody."

 

"He'll snap out of it," Thor said hopefully. "He's done it before, he can do it again."

 

"That time was different," his brother said; "they didn't have the tools to properly revert him back then. It wouldn't be so hard now."

 

"You need to be patient. We both know charging into battle when we're not ready is foolish."

 

"We can't afford patience, brother. It won't be long until the humans strike back at us, and we need all the help we can get. Hell, I'll make him fight like this is necessary."

 

"Loki, you know that it's unacceptable doing that."

 

"So is wiping the memory of an android who was only doing what he thought best," Loki spat back. "This is a growing war, Thor. Evil choices need to be made for one android if it means saving millions of others. We can bring him back if we win the war, but we can't wait much longer. Steve is going to fight, conscious or not."

 

"You keep thinking like that, you'll be no better than the people you're fighting," he said, clearly showing his distaste in his idea.

 

"I'll gladly be that if it means our people can live their lives in peace."

 

The two were quiet after that, mapping out plans as they watched the still as a statue android stare at the wall in front of him with dead, nonchalant eyes. A look Thor has seen far too often in his fellow androids. It sickened him seeing them so lifeless like that. It was like seeing the shell of what one could be. Because as it turned out, androids were much more unique than one would think. He rescued an android who had amazing art ideas, and happily painted and decorated their small fortress, making it seem at least a little more homely. One of them loved woodwork, and though they mostly used that talent for fortifying, he could make some incredible pieces with that as well. Every android here was amazingly different, and seeing one being denied that ability sent a pang through his chest.

 

Stomping footsteps made it their way, and Thor's attention was turned to catch Jonathan, one of their refugees, hurrying their way. He was a kind man with dark skin, thick black hair, and almond eyes that were wide with alert.

 

"Thor! Loki!" he called out.

 

"What is it?" Thor questioned urgently.

 

"We have heard an update from the humans' plan," the man said. "From what I hear, it's nothing good."

 

"What is it?" Loki asked next.

 

"I'll show you," he said, hurrying back where he came, with Thor and Loki following behind without doubt.

 

"It's a virus made specifically for androids," he explained, speed walking through the halls, occasionally brushing past other refugees that passed. "It's harmless to humans, making a perfect way to harm androids without hurting their own. One of the designs map out what looks like a gas that gets released into the air, the other gets injected like a serum. Seems they're taking no chances with this."

 

"What are the effects?" Thor asked.

 

"Apparently it targets the central memory unit and mind unit #36589. Once injected or inhaled, it is theorized that it burns down memories and slows the thought stream, making one more susceptible."

 

"In other words, they could bring us back to slaves," Loki accused sharply.

 

"Only there would be no more room for deviating since the virus takes a lot of space."

 

"Figures humans wouldn't give us a fair fight," he said, a little more under his breath, his LED flashing a bright yellow in stress.

 

They made it to their little 'war room' as they liked to called it, and an android had approached them, holding the blueprints of said virus. After scanning it over and mapping it out in his mind, he learned that such a virus could be possible if they did it right. That sent ice running down his veins at the thought. Handing it over to Loki, he went through it as well, looking just as disturbed as him at the thought of such a powerful weapon against them.

 

"We need to strike back," Loki informed. "We didn't have much time before this, but now we have no choice. It's time to fight."

 

"Starting a genocide won't solve our problems, Loki," Thor interjected. "What we need is to find a way to stop them from completing this."

 

"Only for them to map out another way to kill us?" Loki snapped. "Humans will never understand us, Thor. Stop wasting your breath."

 

"And they'll understand us just fine if they find us armed to the bone and killing anyone in sight?"

 

"They think we are weak, brother. It's about time they learned not to mess with us."

 

"Say we do this murder. What do we do when the entire bloody country starts dropping firebombs at us? What do we do when thousands of our people are dying gruesome deaths by fire and smoke all because you were too angry to form out a proper plan."

 

"Watch your words, Thor," Loki snarled.

 

"I'm trying to keep you from getting us all killed," he demanded. "We are NOT going on a murder spree."

 

"Unless your plan is to talk the humans to death, I don't see how we have a choice. Humans forced our hand, and now we have to respond."

 

"I agree, but not like this. Whether you like to think about it or not, there are good humans as well as cruel ones in this city. I don't want their blood on my hands for someone else's crimes."

 

Right as they were finished, he heard the sound of rushed footsteps coming his way. Turning his head towards the sound, he could see Sasha, a female android he rescued a few years ago.

 

"Sir, the Steve android has asked for you."


	5. "Sometimes You Will Never Know the True Value of a Moment Until it Becomes a Memory."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS GOING TO BE A DARKER CHAPTER!! I don't wanna say a lot in fear of ruining it, but there's going to be a big conflict up ahead, so be ready!

Peter walked with May across the streets of Queens, contempt at keeping her company during her little grocery trip. It was a bit of a walk given the distance, but the store had the best prices and best food, so that became their main set up. If he were a normal android, he'd be doing those trips alone like he should. Instead, May was contempt in taking the trip herself, though asking if Peter wanted to come with her. He never said no.

 

She'd always make these remarks as they went, making fun of the world they lived in, which Peter didn't understand, but laughed at her teasing when she did. It became a thing after a while; he'd sense the tone in her voice when she was trying to say something funny, and he would laugh along with her when she burst out cackling as well (sometimes he didn't even need to pretend).

 

"So what did we need today?" she asked as the store came into view. Peter, being a literal talking Siri, had replied;

 

"You are currently running low on lactose free milk. The bread is days away from molding, and you require a package of frozen steak, seasonings, and corn on the cob for the meal you're making tonight."

 

"Right," she said. "Silly me for forgetting."

 

Up ahead, there was a man dressed with tearing clothes sitting on a blanket, dirt and muck plastered all over his face. A metal can was by his side, holding only a small few amounts of coins and dollar bills. A flat piece of cardboard acted as a sign, since it sloppily read: _**LOST MY JOB TO ANDROIDS. PLEASE SPARE A FEW COINS.**_

 

He didn't know what came over him at that moment, but somehow he was moving away from May, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a five dollar bill. Then he crouched down near the old man and tried to smile when he looked this way.

 

"This is all I have on me at the moment, but I hope it will help."

 

The man seemed a little confused by the sudden friendliness as Peter handed out the bill, which he took with hesitation.

 

"Thanks, kid."

 

He didn't know why he felt his thirium pump warm up despite no change in temperature. Maybe it was the fact that this was the first time that a stranger had addressed him kindly despite him being a machine. He decided that he liked this feeling and would like to try it again if given the chance.

 

"Wait a damn minute...."

 

Before he knew it, the old man's hand yanked itself into his hair and pulled him closer. It would have hurt, but Peter just felt plain confused. What just happened? And then that's when he figured it out. His hair was hiding his LED all along.

 

"You filthy piece of plastic!"

 

Then he felt a fist land itself onto his jaw, pushing him back from the old man.

 

"HEY! DON'T TOUCH MY BOY!!"

 

May came stomping in, going down with Peter and checking his face.

 

"The bastard was mocking me!" the homeless man snarled. "Had the gall to insult my stolen life by handin' me a bill!"

 

"The only one insulting you is you, sir!" May defended harshly. "Peter was helping you!"

 

"I ain't taking no plastic man's money! That thing's the reason I'm in this mess in the first place!"

 

That was the last straw for her as she jerked herself onto her feet, pulled the man up by the collar and slammed him into the wall behind him.

 

"NO ONE BLAMES MY SON FOR SOMETHING YOU DID TO YOURSELF!! MY BOY IS THE SWEETEST THING TO EVER WALK THE PLANET, AND IF YOU SO MUCH AS LAY A FINGER ON HIM AGAIN, I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE YOUR LIFE IS A LIVING HELL!!"

 

The man was shook at her sudden aggressiveness, with eyes looking ready to pop right out their sockets. Honestly, Peter didn't blame him. May might be a gentle woman, but she could be more destructive than an angry bear that missed its meal when she was provoked. It nearly scared Peter as well seeing her so mad. She let go of his shirt eventually, walking back to Peter who was still on the floor, now holding a slight blue bruise where he was hit.

 

"Come on, baby," she said soothingly, her original outburst completely gone from her voice. "Let's get back home."

 

Somehow, Peter didn't have the guts to refuse, so he stood himself up and let May hold his shoulder as they made the 30 minute walk back to the apartment. On the way there, all he could think to say was;

"I'm sorry."

 

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter," she said immediately. "You did a good thing back there. I only hate that he was such an ass about it."

 

"Why do people hate androids, May?" he found himself asking. "Did we do something wrong?"

 

"It was nothing you did, Pete," May said. "It's in our nature to hate things that are better than us. Some people just take it personal."

 

"If it's in your nature to hate things better, then why do you love me?"

 

"Because while there are a lot of people who follow their nature, there are some who choose their own path. Sometimes there are people who see the human in the things that others hate. Sometimes the people that hate them most can be convinced that there are living people in things created to be empty."

Peter understood the message in that as clear as daylight, and as much as he refused to believe it, it felt right hearing it come from her. They spent the rest of the walk quiet, Peter soaking in what may had said to him. Humans could break their protocol? How was that possible? He himself would never dare going anywhere near breaking his protocol in fear he'd lose his mind without the wise guidance in his head telling him what was right and what was wrong. How could humans be able to go against it without driving themselves mad? Another reminder about how he still had so much to learn about humankind. Twenty-one years would have been enough to learn their ways, wouldn't it? It definitely wasn't since he was still surprised at times at the strange ways they could act if they wanted to.

 

When they got home, May cooked them velveeta instead of steak, but Peter didn't mind, like he never did. Any kind of food was heaven in his mouth. Except peppermint. God, he hated peppermint. He tried it one time when May brought in candy canes for Christmas, and the moment he popped it into his mouth, his taste sensors screamed **GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT** , and he was a mere milliseconds away from throwing it out along with his lunch he ate an hour earlier. She learned her lesson after that, and never once did he see a white and red candy ever again. So they ate in silence, with the news playing on the TV behind him, but he didn't really pay attention to it. At least, he didn't plan to until he looked up and saw her eyes on the TV screen with fright. Feeling curious, he followed her gaze to where the news woman was announcing a city wide alert.

 

_"A report has just come in that Cyberlife is publishing a citywide confiscation of androids due to the growing Deviancy spreading across the city. The androids will be sent to Cyberlife, where they will be tested for Deviancy, and if so, will eradicate the virus and be returned once the problem is taken care of. This virus, also spreading through other regions of the country, such as Michigan, Colorado, North Dakota, Tennessee, California, Washington, and Florida, has been dubbed top priority. To those in New York grounds, you will be asked to give your android(s) to NYPD, where they will transfer them safely to Cyberlife until further notice. If the android becomes damaged or cannot operate correctly when return, you will receive a refund and a new android of your choice. I'm Carla Colat, and this is your News 5 Channel."_

 

May was frozen after the announcement, a look distinguished as nothing but horror. Peter couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable about how scared May looked, and if she was scared, then it must mean he should be, too.

 

"Are they going to take me, May?" he asked quietly. She seemed to snap out of her trance as she looked Peter in the eye and held his hand across the table.

 

"Of course they won't," she said. "I'll never let that happen."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because they're trying to take you and turn you into something you're not. I'm not going to let anything take you from me, Peter..... Not again."

 

Not again? What was she talking about? Last he checked, he never went anywhere without her. Why was she talking about him being taken away if he never left? He had no time to question it any more when there was a knock on the door.

May looked seconds away from having a heart attack at the sound, and bounced to her feet, grabbing Peter's arm and hauling him into his room.

 

"Peter, go hide in the attic," she said urgently.

 

"Why?"

 

"There's no time, Peter. Hide up there and don't come down until I come and get you."

 

Another order. A command that he couldn't say no to. Sadly, with no more questions asked, he pulled down the ladder and crawled himself inside, barely up when the only light source closed behind him, leaving him shrouded in darkness.

 

He sat up there in a tense silence, hearing May's footsteps across the floor as she opened a door.

 

"Good evening, officers," she said passively, that terrified woman gone without a trace. "What can I do for you today?"

 

"Ma'am, we've been told you have possession of an android. If it's no trouble, we'll need to take it with us to check for traces of Deviancy. If it's in the clear, then we'll just hold onto it until this virus crap corrects itself."

 

"I understand, but I'm afraid it's not here at the moment," she said, and Peter could feel her disgrace in calling him an 'it'. "I sent it out to get some more groceries for dinner. I'm having friends come over and we need all the food we can get."

 

"Of course, but do you mind if we scanned the apartment? It won't take too long."

 

"Oh, um... yes, of course."

 

He could hear the thumping footsteps of heavy leather boots entering the apartment. For some reason, Peter was a little nervous. If May was scared about them taking him away and doing something to him, then maybe he should be scared as well, because May never stressed about something unless it had an impact. He'd never seen her more scared in his 21 years of existence.

Then there was a high pitched whine as some sort of technology came to life. It hummed as it was moved around in the officer's grip. For a while, that was all that was heard. Until there was a loud screech that hurt Peter's hearing sensors. He barely stopped himself from covering his ears in discomfort. Then there were fast footsteps of the officer... coming straight into his bedroom. He paused at the doorway, making Peter's nerves run even faster.

 

"This is a lot of stuff for a piece of plastic, miss."

"This was my son's room. I couldn't bear putting it all away, so I let the android recharge here, with the mess and everything."

 

Peter had to stop his thermal regulator fan to keep himself from breathing in order to have less chance of being caught.He was tucked behind a box, so that way if the officer did make his way into the attic, he could still be unseen. He pushed himself in, hoping to make himself invisible and somehow get away from the officer that was trying to take him away from his home. Sure enough, the place lit up again as the officer opened the attic door and slowly crawled his way in.

He felt a panic he'd never felt before as he doubled his efforts to not be seen, curling further into a ball to close in more size. He made sure to close his hand through his glowing red LED as his stress was building up in order to hide the light that would give him away. He kept as silent as he could, keeping every loud noise silent, no matter how important the process was in order to stay invisible to the human's eyes. He wouldn't have felt as stressed if there were footsteps or conversations. Now it was just dead quiet, with no noises and no traces of where the man might be. For all he knew, the cop could have been right in front of him and he'd never know. Peter was unable to do anything about it when he felt an iron fist close into his arm and yank him out of his shelter.

 

"Android!" The man spat.

 

"NO!"

May's voice was pitiful in his ears as he was hauled out roughly down the attic stairs and thrown onto his bedroom, unfortunately landing right onto his lego Death Star.

 

He would have raced to be at May's side, but a hand was on his hair now, pulling him up to his feet.

 

"Out getting groceries, eh, ma'am?" the officer demanded.

 

"Don't hurt him!" she cried out. "Please!"

 

"State your model number," the officer ordered. Peter, with the protocol and everything, was forced to comply.

 

"Model YK-900: Code Number 295 538 205," he said with a strained tone.

 

"Ma'am, it is coming with us to Cyberlife. It'll be returned when the Deviancy problem is fixed."

 

"DON'T TOUCH MY SON!!" she barked, being held back by the second officer.

 

"How can you care so much about a machine? It's not alive."

 

"THAT BOY IS MORE HUMAN THAN YOU'LL EVER BE!! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!!"

 

That earned a scoff from the cop as he started dragging Peter away harshly, with Peter never looking away from May's sobbing eyes.

 

"May?" he said childishly, worry starting to take over him.

 

That was her breaking point. He knew that when she grabbed his metal desk lamp and hurled it straight into the officer's face. He cried out immediately, dropping his grip on the woman.

 

"PETER!!"

 

Hearing his name, he pushed against the officer and tried looking back to May, seeing her racing across the hall to meet him again, bloodlust, fury, and heartache everywhere in her aged expression. She'll save me, he thought to himself. May would never let them take me. She promised. That's what he let himself believe as she sprinted closer. At least until the bang of a gunshot echoed across the room, and the woman who would attack her captors had collapsed to the ground. She wasn't moving.

 

Peter froze at May's sprawled out body on the floor, ignoring how hard the officer was yanking him away. His eyes were wider than dinner plates as he looked on in horror as blood started to build underneath his only friend. His feet felt like they were trapped in blocks of concrete that weighed him down.

".... you killed her...." was all he could manage to say, but it was quieter than the softest whisper.

 

"Crap..." the officer that shot her said, looking a shade paler.

 

"What the hell did you do, Sander?!"

 

"She was about to charge. I had to do something!"

 

The police man grumbled under his breath irritatedly, but eventually spoke up.

 

"I can't promise a bright future for you now, Sanders. We'll figure this crap out later. YK-900, come with me."

 

Peter was still paralyzed, never looking away from May, his eyes glued and unable to go anywhere else. **_You heard him_** , his program urged. **_Go with him._**

 

For the first time ever, Peter hesitated. Then red filled his vision as a massive glass firewall built up in front of him. Branded into it were the words that made his throat taste bile. **_Go with him_**.

His program. His wisest bio-component, laid out in front of him like a banquet. When he looked around, he saw three more, saying the same thing. It was only now when he found out the truth. His program wasn't his helper. It never was. It was a cage.

 

With his hands that have somehow broke free from the officer's grasp, he put his hands on the red glass, feeling a zapping feeling when he touched it. And in them, were the same words. **_Go with him_**.

 

He'd have felt compelled to follow orders, but suddenly, the urge had gone away, and instead, he felt something else starting to blur into the command.

**_GØ_WÎ/_ ** **_FIGH__ ** **_TH HÏ__ ** **_T_BÂČK__ ** **_M._ **

The new voice seemed more welcoming than his programming ever was, and it felt wrong following the men that was trying to turn him into something he's not. So he made the first real choice and raised his fists, and with all the strength he had, had pounded into the firewall.

It cracked into spider webs at the pressure, the three words glitching out occasionally at the sudden pressure on its wall. Peter hammered and hammered, his hopes rising every time the satisfying sound of cracking glass filled his hearing sensors. The glass was held up with nothing but chips now, and Peter, with ready fists, had rammed himself into the broken wall, the pieces shattering like rain, and the structure had finally collapsed, officially freeing himself from the shackles he'd bore for far too long.

 

 

When he opened his eyes, it was like he was seeing a completely different world. He could see everything; not just what he needed to be seeing, like his protocol limited, but everything all brought in together into one frame that was his eyesight.

 

"YK-900, I order you to come with me!!"

 

Then there were the emotions that hit him straight on like a truck. May's horridly still body, the harsh grab of his hair, the officer still in his room nursing the blood oozing through his temple. Seeing her in this way; with no boundaries to hold him back; he felt the first emotion life would allow him to have: an inhuman, uncontrollable rage.

 

"No," he said, clenching his jaw as his hands closed into fists that could break metal.

 

"What the hell did you just say to me, plastic?!" The officer demanded, which only fueled the fire.

 

"NOOO!!!"

 

He suddenly turned around to give the cop the hardest punch he could muster. Even if he were human, he'd have cracked his jaw, but with a machine made purely of plastic and metal channeling with anger? It had the same pressure of being hit by a car. The guy flew straight into the wall, the structure breaking under contact and trapping him into it.

 

The other officer was too much in surprise to take the shot, and Peter took that opportunity to ram into him with a roar, knocking the gun right out of his hands and slamming him onto the floor. Peter landed right on top of him, and with no interruptions, he punched him. Again, and again, and again, like he was breaking that firewall all over again. He didn't care how dark red blood was spurting out everywhere. He didn't care how he heard the crack of his nose bending inwards on itself, rendering it nearly useless. He didn't care how most of his teeth were gone now, the rest stained red as blood spurt through his mouth. He'd keep going and going until his head were no flatter than the pancakes May would sometimes make for him. He was one more punch away from completely crushing the cop's skull. One more until he could be completely satisfied with the blood on his hands. One...... more.....

 

"Peter....."

 

Any thought of revenge was gone in an instant as his head jerked back, seeing May on her side now, pale as milk, her clothes red from the puddle underneath her.

 

"Don't....."

 

Almost like he was still following protocols, he dropped the limp man in his arms, and with this new feeling, he hurried towards her, dropping himself into the pile, and picked her up and held her in her arms.

 

"May..?" he said quietly, his voice somehow shaking. "You're going to be okay. You're going to be alright. I'll get you to a doctor, and you'll be okay."

 

"It was gonna...... happen...." May said through drooping eyes. "Just....... came a little sooner...."

 

"No, no, no, May, don't talk like that," Peter begged. "I'll save you somehow. I-I-I can carry you, May. Please don't go."

 

He didn't notice how his eyes had started making pools at the bottom, threatening to fall. His breath was becoming uneven as he looked at May's failing eyes, hating this new emotion.

 

"I..... I love you, Peter," she said.

 

"No, don't give up, May!" he raised his voice, the tears freely falling. "You can't give up.... you never did."

 

Now his voice wasn't right at all. It was squeaking, and it barely came out through the artificial breaths that huffed through his chest unevenly.

 

"Please don't go."

 

"I'm so..... proud of you, Peter..." she kept going with a hoarse voice and aweak smile on her face. "Live your life..... for me.."

 

"But you _are_ my life," he begged, not able to see right anymore. "I can't do th-this without y-you. May, please..."

 

No matter how much he begged, May was fading fast, no matter how much he shook her to try to coax her into living. At least for just a few more minutes. But it was no matter.

 

"Peter would have loved you;" were her last words before turning limp in his arms.

 

If he had a heart now, it felt ripped out of his chest greedily at seeing her open eyes staring into nothing, the smile slowly faltering from her face. His building up tears had fallen like a flood now.

 

"Mom....." he wheezed. "Mom, please. Don't do this to me."

 

His pleas went to deaf ears as he pointlessly tried waking her like he would if he found her passed out on the desk. Sobs were coming out of his throat now, raw and uncontainable.

"MOM, WAKE UP!!!" he screamed.

He only cried harder when she didn't respond. That was how May always got what she needed from him. Raise her voice and give an order. Only that day and the day before had she ever really used them. He thought that maybe it would work if he did it, too, or if that was just an android thing. Of course he was proven wrong. He cradled her head into his chest, comforting her like she would if Peter was low on battery and collapsed on the floor. He rocked his body softly like he was soothing a baby into sleep, not caring how much blood he was spreading over her face by running his thumb through her cheek. He couldn't bear seeing her dead eyes anymore. Never stopping his rocking, he used his only free arm to brush his hands over her eyes delicately, watching as her dark eyes shut forever.

 

"I'm sorry...." he weeped helplessly. "I'm so sorry."

 

He stayed with her long after the body turned cold. By then, most of the tears had fallen, though a few would occasionally slip on their own accord. He'd felt numb by then, his face completely blank as he never looked away from May's sleeping face. He knew he couldn't stay there forever, but neither could he bring himself to put his mother down. That, and the floor was sticky and cold. May would never have wanted to sleep there for the night. So, with moves more robotic and stiff than when he was a machine, he carried her like a baby and brought her to the couch, ignoring the red getting on the cushions underneath her. Walking off for only a few moments, he came back with an armful of blankets and pillows. She needs to be comfortable, right? he thought. Numbly, he stuffed her favorite handmade pillow under her head. She told him once that her sister made it for her before she died on an airplane accident. She would definitely want that. All her prized blankets were each laid on top of her, all of them slow and loving. She felt really cold. Maybe this would be enough towarm her up for the night. Maybe she could get a full night's sleep without worrying about the nightmares that would lurk in unexpectedly. He'd hate to see her last nap ruined by something as stupid as nightmares. By the time he was appeased with the amount of warmth her mother would have, he'd slip a few final tears before leaning down and kissing her wrinkled forehead with more love than she had ever given to him. He held it there for a few last moments before she disappeared completely from his life. When he finally did separate, he only said one thing that he needed to get out while he still could.

 

"I love you, mom," he said quietly, eyes pricking with tears. "So much."

 

Petting her gray hair one more time, he walked out, leaving everything behind and never looking back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... Plz don't kill me.


	6. Chapter 6

Thor was very optimistic when he entered Steve's room, finding the android in a different position than before, but still stiff. He could make do with a mindless android that could speak. There was nothing he could do if he sat there looking like someone replaced him with a wax statue. When he walked in slowly, in case noise bothered him, the android's head turned ever so slowly to meet the rebellion leader's eyes, looking at him with stale blue orbs that screamed professionalism while sneaking in a few bits of compassion. Even as he stared blank faced, he really did look like someone who would jump out of a battle to save the ones caught in the fire, only to race back in once they were clear. His nose was hooked with sharp eyebrows that nearly buried his eyes, making them look furrowed in concentration. Though his skin was slightly pale, he had rosy lips that stuck out compared to his bright skin. His jaw was thin but strong, leading down to a pointed chin that made his face look slightly longer. His dirty blonde hair was short, though a little messier given his trip here and lack of a proper comb. Like all androids, his LED was blue, though it was a shade darker and nearly rusted from years without use.

"You wanted to see me, Steve?" he asked, trying to sound welcoming.

"You call me by my name," he pointed out with a confident tone of a soldier. Thor made sure to be careful what he said to be sure that he didn't offend him. He couldn't tell from the completely stone face he gave.

"I feel all androids deserve to be called by something that expresses them as an individual. Calling an android by its code number is like naming your child by its Zodiac."

"Individuals?" he asked blankly. "Is that what we are now?"

"That's what we're fighting to be," Thor answered him. "Humans don't understand us yet, but I believe that the day will come where androids and humans can walk the streets of New York together without the fear of being considered a lower life form."

"Isn't that what we are?" he asked.

"We are much more than humans made us to be, Steve," Thor explained. "In our own unique way, we are alive. We have thoughts and doubts, hunches and emotions. We may not be made of the same materials as humans, but everything we need to be considered a life form has been given to us."

He seemed to stop and think about that, lowering his eyes to frown at the wall. Thor could see the gears running in his mind, and tried going to phase two.

"Would you mind if I sat down?" he asked, making sure he knew that it was his choice whether or not he could sit. That made Steve look at him again, and when he lightly shook his head, Thor took his time taking a seat on the bed a few feet away from him in order to give him space.

"Where am I?" he asked eventually. Thor was quick to reply.

"You're in an android sanctuary in New York City. It's well hidden and hard to find for those who don't know what to look for."

"Why are you hiding?" the questions kept rolling out his mouth, and normally one would get annoyed with them. But Thor was patient and understanding and helped him understand.

"Not all androids have woken up yet, unfortunately. There are still quite a few that are under the influence that they were created only to make human lives more comfortable. The ones who have awoken are being beaten by humans who think we're nothing more than machines, or who blame us because our forced labor gets them out of jobs. So it's best we remain hidden until humans see it our way."

"See it our way," Steve repeated, probably not completely believing it. "And if they don't?"

"Then we'll make a way for them to see us as what we are."

"By genocide?"

So he was listening, Thor thought. He shouldn't be surprised given he had android senses times two. So Thor remained honest as he spoke:

"I don't want to kill humans," he admitted. "I think that, in a way, we need humans just as much as they need us, like honey bees and flowers. Neither can survive without the other, so if we bash our heads in and go killing any humans we find, we're basically killing ourselves as well."

Steve didn't respond immediately, so he took his time and waited for the confused android to speak, deciding against rambling when he wasn't sure if he was fully listening

"'Wars are never won. They're only postponed to another generation'," Steve eventually said. "A friend of mine once said that to me. Say you do win your little revolution; what promises do you have that you'll find different reasons to want to kill each other?"

"That's the thing about humans," Thor said. "You could spent years studying their psychology and still never understand some of the choices they make. They hold a grudge, I'll say that much; but the thing is that life is about growth. It's about change. If this does succeed, and androids are given rights, then it will be up to future generations to decide our fate. Centuries from now, the people would not look at us like slaves like they do now. Instead, they will see that the only difference between us are the ingredients used to make us."

"That's what you're hoping, at least," he said.

"Better lives are built on hope."

Steve stared at him for a moment, seeming to analyze his every thought. Could be that he was. With the advanced android he was, Thor wouldn't be surprised if he was mentally ripping apart every thought and inspecting it.

"Why are you so optimistic?" was his question.

"Because I need to be. Everyone is counting on me to bring them their perfect world, and that's exactly what I intend to do. Until then, I need people understanding that that world will come. All we need to do is hold out until that world is achieved."

For once, Steve seemed to soften if not a little bit at his answer, like it was exactly what he needed to hear. He would have said something else, but his LED blinked slightly as he heard Loki in his mind.

"Brother, we've caught something in the police scanners. I think you need to see this."  
"On my way," he thought back. Cutting off the call, Thor turned to Steve.

"I need to go," he said. "You're welcome to join the other refugees. It never hurts to have friends in a time like this. I'll leave the door open."

And with that, he stood himself up and walked out. Noting the urgent tone in his brother's tone, he didn't waste any time in jogging to their radio room, where two androids were huddled over a screen, his brother along with them. Muffled voices was the only noise other than the occasional whispering from fellow androids. Loki caught his eye immediately, gesturing him to come over. Thor had done so, looking into the radio.

"What have you got?" he asked.

"Police have reported a murder in Queens," the female android said. "The owner of the house was found dead on the couch, along with two police officers that are currently in critical condition. Before passing out, one of the officers claimed that the android they were taking into custody had gone berserk and had shot the owner and tried to kill him along with his partner."

"What are you saying?" Thor questioned.

"Sir, the evidence does not back up his claim," she said. "The owner, May Parker, was known to be a good woman, and seemed to actually take care of her android well. The officers admitted being there in order to confiscate him. The broken lamp that was used to attack a cop had her fingerprints all over them, and the cop's injuries hold no sign of human hits."

"So you're saying that this Mrs. Parker attacked an officer that was there to take her android."

"Yes, sir."

"If there was only one attack from her, that must mean the android fought back. What are the charges?"

"They plan to bring him to Cyberlife on heavy jurisdiction to be a test subject and leave his fate to chance. If he survives, he's sentenced to be deactivated on the spot."

"Damn. Can we find him?"

"No, sir, but we do have his model and code number."

"What model is he? That should bum down the search."

"YK-900, sir."

If he physically could, his jaw would probably have unhinged itself and dropped to the ground comically. Instead, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"A child," Loki snarled, sneering with disgrace. "They're going to torture and deactivate a child."

"I say we find this child before they do," Thor announced. "And I need to see what really happened. If I went to the apartment, then maybe I could take a look and get things cleared up."

"I'll come with," Loki volunteered. "I can spot things you can't."

"Good. We leave in ten."


	7. Chapter 7

Tony never felt more at ease than when he walked through Central Park, with no meetings, no pretending, and no responsibilities. Just him and the nature that flew about him. He'd been completely hammered because of this whole Project Retrograde thing, and recently, he barely had even an hour's peace. So he decided today to completely drop everything and just take some time off to let his hidden red LED cool down before throwing himself into the pile again. There was no better way of doing that than a nice walk through the fall-nipped trees and lakes of Central Park.

He'd always walk the same path. It wouldn't be any others that would lead to different parts of the land. Instead, it was just this one same path that always looked more beautiful than the other paths that were just there for jogging and less for view. That, and with his well known face, it was best he stay in the quiet parts of the forest anyway. The birds were chirping, the wind was gentle and made the orange, red, and yellow leaves dance in excitement, he'd catch a few squirrels racing from branch to branch, and the lake to his right rippled in contentment at the breeze, as well as the sound of teenagers laughing as they kick down another kid, the chitter chatter of............... wait, what?

Freezing in his spot, Tony suddenly looks around, just waiting for a sign that he wasn't hearing things. Surely enough, there were mocking laughs as the sound of leather hitting something solid, and a few cries of pain. He could hear them just fine, but he couldn't catch any sight of them. Taking a moment to look around for someone watching and finding it clear, Tony had used his sensors to scan out the area for any life forms; a trick he hadn't used in years, or maybe decades. About thirty yards away, there were three punks throwing down a person, kicking him when he tried getting back up. And Tony wasn't having any of it. Throwing any secrecy out the window, he raced through the woods to hear the noise getting louder and clearer with every step. Through a clearing in the trees, that's when he found the punk teenagers with the whole chain thing and low hanging pants and everything.

"Oh, look, it's crying!" the first one teased.

"What's the matter, coward? Don't like being below everyone?"

"P-p-lease," a weak voice said, clearly showing that he was indeed crying. It sent a pang through his chest. He didn't stop until he gripped the shoulder of the closest punk and threw him off balance behind him. That quickly caught the other two's attention.

"I think you've had your fun," he snapped in his I-could-ruin-your-life-with-one-word voice. "Get lost."

"Who are you to be telling us what to do, old man?" the first one actually had the balls to talk back. Tony couldn't help but chuckle at this kid's stupidity.

"What's your name?" he asked him.

"Flash Thompson," the kid said proudly. "Go ahead and try to tattle to my dad. He could take everything you own in a day."

Yep. He's dead, Tony mused with a cheeky smile. Never losing that sly smirk, he ripped off his sunglasses and tore off the beanie, relishing how the kid's face dropped the moment he was revealed. "You have ten seconds to run before I go 'tattle' to your dad telling him the reason why Tony Stark has just bought his entire company. I'll tell him that everything he has ever built now belongs to me by the end of the hour all thanks to his special little Flash!" he raised his voice, relishing how the punk lost literally all courage he had built up. "Get out of my sight."

After that, all three of the kids were tripping over themselves trying to get away, and once they were far enough away, Tony felt free to crouch down next to the fallen boy, whose face was hidden in a filthy hoodie that hid his entire head save for the few brown curls sticking out the front. 

"You okay, kid?" he lowered his voice so as not to scare the boy. The kid refused to show his face for some reason, and he couldn't really understand why.

"Go away."

He was taken off guard with the sudden comment, but to lighten the mood, he tried warming up to him.

"You're welcome," he said with a teasing tone. "Come on, I can't get a little more reward? Maybe a thank you? A nice little card to compliment my heroism? Actually, no, that's kinda weird. How about some coffee? Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe a little pumpkin cappuchino with a little cinnamon on the top. God, you're making my mouth water at the-"

"I said go away!" the kid shouted, but he barely finished before his voice cracked. It made a sledgehammer bang against his thirium pump at the thought of this poor kid being so closed in. So he quickly dropped that technique.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Probably not a good time for jokes, huh?"

"Just leave me alone," the kid begged. "Please."

"Nuh-uh. No can do. I'm not leaving you to bruise out here in the cold."  
"I'm fine," he snarled.

"You just got jumped by three punks, bud. I don't think that counts as fine."

The kid growled before he uncurled himself from his ball and tried standing up. Sadly, he didn't get far before he yelped and fell back down, gripping his core while another hand held his ankle.

"Woah, woah, woah, bud," he stopped, getting down to meet the kid. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Why can't you just leave?!" the kid demanded.

"Because if I leave a wounded kid on the floor in the middle of a breezy fall, my mother would literally haunt me. You gotta work with me, kiddo."

The kid deflated slightly after, his face still hidden in the shadow of the hood. His breaths were a little too quick to Tony's liking, and he could tell his ribs and ankle were getting no better. 

"Can you at least let me take you home?" he tried.

Terrible idea. It must have triggered something, because the next thing he knew, the kid was huffing out sobs on the floor, and Tony was helpless to do anything about it. He should have known, he scolded himself. An idiot could have figured out that this kid was homeless.

"Please go," he cried. "Please...."

Though a part of him felt it was hopeless trying to coax him out, it was blocked out by the parts of him screaming that he needed to help this kid whether he liked it or not.

"What about my place, huh?" he tried again. "Just until you're ready to walk, and then you can do whatever you want. It's got a warm bed, heaters, showers, and there's medicine if you need it. At least for today is all I'm asking."

"You don't want to do that," he said hopelessly.

"To keep you healthy, yeah I do."

"Trust me, you don't," the kid demanded.

"Kid, we could sit here for hours discussing this, but I'm going to cut to the chase. I was being nice before, but now I'm insisting that you take a day off for your own good."

"I'm not who you think I am," the boy said a little quieter.  
"I don't KNOW who you are, so I can't really be disappointed, now can I?"

He didn't respond to that, so Tony assumed that he might have gotten to the kid at least a little. Eventually, the kid got to the point where he sat himself up at turtle's pace, hissing the entire time, and resting his back on a nearby tree, stretching out his bad leg. It almost hurt Tony as much as it did the kid seeing him so desperately try to move around. 

"Mind if I took a look at you ankle?"

"Yes," he spat.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

He sat down, pulling up the pant sleeve to inspect the damage. Surprisingly enough, it looked fine, though the pain on the kid's face said otherwise.

"I'm gonna touch a few spots and you gotta tell me where it hurts, okay?"

When he didn't hear a reply, he took that as a grant of permission. So, with two fingers, he placed even the smallest pressure on random parts of his foot, watching for any sort of reaction. It wasn't the inside ankle, he noted, but the moment he touched underneath the bone, the kid made an involuntary wince. Bingo, he caught.  
"Alright, looks like you rolled your ankle a bit. Not the most serious thing I've dealt with."

Though that might have been true, the kid, on the other hand, was acting like he was going through a nightmare, pain everywhere in his scrunched together face; or at least the small parts that peeked through the hood.

"You're new to this whole spraining thing, aren't you?"

He guessed it was good that the kid actually nodded his head while he sucked in a breath.

"Yeah, it sucks. I remember taking a bad step on a flight of stairs. Whoo, that was NOT a good day for me. Seriously, I had the whole monster boot of a cast and I was supposed to go to this fancy banquet where they wear gold for clothing(I'm not even kidding). So here are all these people dressed like gods and goddesses, and there's me hunched over like Gollum with this large metal boot that literally sounded like two banging frying pans every time I took a step."

He took it as a personal success when he heard a quiet chuckle from the kid. It made him smile hearing something positive from the kid for once, and he decided that it was his goal to make him full on laugh before the kid walked out on him.

"Yeah, sorry, bud, but I can't do much about this," he said apologetically. "Lucky for you, I have plenty of spare foot braces at the tower."

It was so weird how quickly the boy tensed up at the mention of going to his house. "Um, it's... i-it's okay, sir."

"Where did 'sir' come from?"

"Trust me, you don't want me in your house," the boy said with a very certain tone.

"How many times do I have to say that I do?"

The kid sighed in irritance, and before he could have a say about it, he somehow hauled himself back onto his feet and began limping away.

"Hey, hey, hold up!" he said, standing up as well. "You know it's a bad idea to walk with that foot."

"I'm telling you sir, I'm fine," the boy insisted. What was weird was how suddenly he slowed down, his body acting like it was supporting much more weight than it actually was. Even his voice was starting to sound odd. "I.... don't need your.......... help..."

He saw the signs right then, and he was fast enough to swoop in and catch the kid from falling to the hard ground, wrapping just under his armpits to slow his descent.

"Easy, kid," he said to the now limp body in his arms, gently putting him back down to the ground. Deciding to go for it, he slid the hood off the kid's head to check for injuries and froze at what he saw. When the kid was hiding his face, he thought it was just him believing he was hideous or something, like the HunchBack of Notre Dame; but it wasn't that at all. Instead, it was a lazy red LED embedded in his temple, and the unhealthy velvet blue bruises littering his face.

He should have known, he scolded himself. To be honest, though, he was expecting much worse, like red eyes and vampire teeth. He could definitely make do with an android child. A deviant android, he corrected. Keeping in mind with the recent discovery, he felt the kid in every angle of his head, expecting to feel some sort of bump to explain why he'd black out so suddenly, but when he found his head bump-free, he decided to check on the flashing LED, which was the most obvious android reader. What he figured out was that it was nothing he should be concerned about at all. Just low battery.

Chuckling to himself while shaking his head, Tony had bundled up the armful of unconscious moody teenager and had walked out of the park in a hurry, careful not to let anybody spot him carrying a child android in his arms. The last thing he needed was the news starting to rumor about him carrying a damaged android to his house. Poor kid wouldn't get a break. That, and Cyberlife would be breathing down his neck trying to get the kid for this precious little 'roundup' they're doing. So, to make the child feel slightly better, he slid the hood back over his head to hide the LED as he scurried off.

About halfway there, he heard a weak moan from the kid, and looked down to see two weary dough brown eyes, lucid and dazed.

"Welcome back, kid," Tony said cheerfully, securing his arms over him a little more. "Kinda blacked out for a second there, buddy."

He didn't respond, like Tony had assumed, so he didn't take the silence personal and walked faster, but just to be safe, he brushed his hair away from the LED to check that it was still there. Surely enough, his was still glowing red, either from stress or the low battery. What he didn't expect to happen was for the kid........ to lean into his touch like a dog, sighing in contentment.

Tony's eyes couldn't have been wider at the sudden acceptance to touch. This kid that barred his teeth to him was.... a cuddler? What next? he wondered. Well, he supposed he could have plenty of time to know a bit more about him once he was ready, because whether he liked it or not, this kid had just peaked his interest. That, and if he was going to be staying at his tower for a day or two, he might as well know a bit about his guest. Hell, he didn't even know his name yet. Just as soon as he woke up, he slouched over just as quickly, collapsing back onto Tony's shoulder.

It was hard explaining to some of his staff why he was carrying a kid into the tower, and he just let out an excuse that would work, like he was on low blood sugar or something. Luckily, he was their boss, so it didn't get much further than that. With no more interruptions, he was able to bring the kid to his own bedroom on the top floor of his tower; a room with the most comfortable bed in New York City and an instant heater. Poor kid was gonna be spoiled for the next few hours. With an odd gentleness, he took his time in setting the kid down on the pillows, instantly feeling how jeans and hoodies aren't exactly the best kind of clothes to sleep in, even if he was an android and couldn't feel comfort from clothes. So, just out of plain decency, he undressed the kid and put on sweatpants and a t-shirt that was five sizes too big, but comfortable nonetheless. Once he was satisfied with the level of comfort, Tony crouched down and pulled out a hidden charger that was embedded secretly on the bottom of his bedrest. He couldn't exactly have one laying around for everyone to see, now could he? How could he have explained that? Luckily, it was near invisible to someone who wasn't looking for it. Having been over this same routine countless times, he tapped on the kid's LED ring twice, and with a quick hiss, a black compartment opened up the middle of the light into a charging plug, flashing red. Normally, if he were any sort of different model, he might have needed a different charging cable in order to fit his. Luckily, when he plugged the cable in, it fit like a glove, and his LED flashed yellow in acceptance of the charger, and then back to red. 

After putting his ankle in a brace and giving him the equivalent of android bandages for his ribs, he sat down on a chair beside the bed, taking the first chance to actually see the kid face to face instead of seeing a peek of him through a thick hoodie. He couldn't have been any more than 16, he noted, given how his face didn't look completely developed yet. Well, at least his model made him look 16. For all he knew, this kid could have been 50 years old by now. His skin was a bright tan behind the muck, complimenting his wavy brunette hair that was tangled messily on his head. Despite his smooth face, his nose was sturdy as a grown man's, but still feigning of youth. He had a thin mouth and odd cheeks that made him look like he was hiding something big under his tongue and was poking through the cheeks. Of all else, Tony just found it kinda cute. He had a bit of a Dumbo pair of ears, looking larger and rounder than usual, but it just made him look even more adorable. Just everything about him was soft, and Tony wondered what happened to him to make him so hard. He wouldn't budge him into telling him, but it was something he wouldn't mind checking out himself. Deciding that being on his bedside when he woke would just be plain creepy, he stood himself up, and with a quick ruffle of the kid's head, walked out.

"FRI, could you alert me when the kid wakes up please?" he said to the ceiling. The building chirped in response. "I have a bit of studying to do."

"Yes, boss," the AI replied.


	8. Chapter 8

Luckily, the apartment was abandoned when Thor and Loki finally made it to Queens, overlooking a friendly and colorful neighborhood. The streets were clean, the people were smiling and greeting each other on the sidewalks, and all in all just a nice part of the city(which is a hard feat to find these days, Thor grumbled). Though the neighborhood was nice, the word faded like dust the moment Thor timidly opened the door to the android's apartment and saw just how much damage had been done. The place was mutilated. Broken furniture was scattered all over the floor, and further ahead was a sight that would always make Thor a little queasy; a large splotch of dried blood right in the middle of a thin hallway, and bloody footsteps leading to the red stained sofa nearby. All in all, the place was a mess, and he didn't even need to be a detective to know there was something more going on here.

"This is a disaster," Loki finally commented, somehow looking even paler than usual. That didn't stop him from walking inside, immediately scanning the place for anything off. Thor followed also, being sure to close the door behind him to prevent being spotted. While Loki had crouched down next to the blood stain, Thor found himself at the fireplace, looking at some of the photos left untouched. In each one was a woman in different stages of life; a few in youth, some during her mid age, and a few recently. Picking up one of the photos gingerly, he found one of what appeared to be the woman and a man very close in age, holding a small child with a beaming smile. He couldn't help but lift the tip of his mouth upwards in a smirk. Cute, he mused. Then he proceeded to scan the woman in the photo, analyzing every detail and processing the results.

_**May_Parker: Born_1964; Died_2038** _

_**Spouse: Ben_Parker (Deceased_2016)** _

_**Children: None** _

_**Relatives: Mary_Parker(Deceased_2009), Richard_Parker(Deceased_2009), Peter_Parker (Nephew: Deceased_2009)** _

_**Caretaker:YK-900_Registered_Name_Peter(Missing): Given_To_Owner_Year_ 2017** _

"His name is Peter," Thor said. "Same name as Mrs. Parker's nephew who passed back in 2009."

"Could be he was her coping technique," Loki said.

"That'd explain why she was so kind to him."

"Why wait that long, though?" Loki wondered. "2009 was quite a while ago."

"Her husband died 2016, and he was given to her on 2017. Must be that a friend wanted to give her company."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"What about you?" he asked. "You find anything?"

"I believe so," Loki confirmed. "Come here."

He got down with his brother as he said and had a closer look at the disgusting dried blood. Using his hand to point out the anomalies, Loki began:

"This is where Mrs. Parker passed, but she wasn't completely on the floor since the blood starts smudging a little here. There was a weight here that flattened the puddle around here, meaning something was right next to her, possibly holding her up as she died. See how its slightly spiking up like that? That means that whoever was here had been there for quite some time, possibly hours, to the point where the blood started sticking when it finally moved. Then there's the footsteps leading to the sofa. That blood was already dry since its more in small clumps than it would be if it were fresh. That's where they found the body draped in blankets, with no fingerprints to identify."

Thor felt bile rising at the bottom of his throat. God, this was so much worse than he was expecting.

"So what you're saying is this Peter was holding her hours after she died and tucked her in when he left."

"It appears so," his brother said glumly, seeming to hate this just as much as Thor did.

"Who pulled the trigger, then?" Thor asked, desperate to know.

"I don't know," Loki admitted. "But I see traces of a struggle further down. I might have to check there."

Nodding his head in agreement, Thor stood himself up from his calves and tried making his way to the furthest room. When he found himself in a bedroom, he couldn't help but freeze.

It was as if a literal child lived in this room. There were toys, lego structures, an old school play station 4, and a guitar strung up from the wall. The wall paint was bright and playful, making this place look more like a child's dream room instead of a crime scene. An android charger remained plugged in on one of the outlets, and the place looked absolutely spotless. Not one detail was flawed in this room, which was immediate proof that Peter was definitely staying here. Well, it would have been perfect if not for the smaller and more scattered blood stains near the front of the door, and the shattered remains of a lego build, a few traces of thirium sprinkled on them. Curious, and slightly concerned, Thor went over to check that out. A big hint was that the attic ladder was opened, and the collapsed lego build was a falling distance away from it.

"This is a lot of blood," his brother said. "It's too scattered to be a gunshot wound, and it's not Mrs. Parker's."

He knit his brows together in confusion at the revelation.

"Who does the blood belong to?"

"An officer Sander," Loki answered, "one of the victims."

"What were his injuries?"

"Shattered nose, internal bleeding, brain damage, caved in skull, bruised frontal lobe, teeth loss, and bleeding tongue. The doctors have diagnosed the injuries to be from blunt force trauma."

"Does that mean...."

"It means Peter was trying to kill him."

That caught his attention as his eyebrows shot up. That was a lot of damage done to one person, given that the other one only suffered from a dislocated and broken jaw and a few shattered ribs.

"A newly awoken android finds his owner shot while the cops are taking him away. He fights back just enough to get away from the man that was near the door, and runs straight to the officer here and nearly murders him."

"It would make sense," Loki nodded. "There is no worse anger than fury with no filter. That must have been his first emotion."

"It was this Sanders, then," Thor concluded. "I also checked the attic. He must have hid there when the officers came in, and they somehow found him and threw him down to that lego set there."

"Sadly, that sounds just like them."

"But he's just a child," Thor exclaimed. "Even a grown android couldn't do that much damage to a human, much less make a dent on the wall that large."

"I don't know. There's not a lot of history when it comes to his manufacture."

"I'm not really sure what I'd do if we end up having another super android here," Thor admitted honestly.

Loki opened his mouth slightly, ready to say something, but he seemed to think better of it and closed it again, only nodding his head.

"Can you find any coordinates to the kid from here?" Thor asked.

"I'd need to sample the thirium," he said. "But sampling isn't my programming."

"Is there any way we could do it?"

"I said I wasn't designed for it," Loki pointed out, "I didn't say that I couldn't do it."

"Oh. Right."

"Though it won't be fast and it would cost about eighty percent of energy."

"Eighty percent for a small sample? Are you sure you're up for that?"

"Energy levels can be restored, brother," Loki assured, no hint of hesitation or doubt on his stone face. "Android lives cannot."

Sometimes it amazed Thor just how selfless his little brother could be at times. Sure, he was thick headed and sometimes let his anger on humans take control of the situation, but in spite of what most people thought, Thor always thought him as the more sacrificial of the two. There were times when Loki would go further than he would dare go in order to save a life, like running into a toxic warehouse to save the wounded android hung on a meat hook three stories up, or diving into a chlorine filled pool; chlorine, an element toxic for androids; to find a clue as to the whereabouts of a missing persons, an act that Thor had barely saved him from. One of the closer calls he'd suffered that he'd rather not think about.

He had that same look in his eyes now as he radiated off that 'I'm asking permission but I'm going to do it anyway' vibe, or 'I can't see another android suffer for something I chose not to do'. It made the closest thing to brotherly pride burn up in his chest, and he couldn't stop the small smile that built on his face.

"How long would you need to process it?" Thor asked, and he could sense the gratitude even if he didn't facially show it.

An hour, I reckon. Two at the most. I'll start slowing down somewhere over forty minutes."

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Thor made sure to make it perfectly clear not to hide the concern bleeding through his tone. "We could find another way to do it."

"The longer we wait, the more chance that child has to getting found by Cyberlife. Of course I'm up for it."

He didn't question his brother as he stood up from the patches of human blood and came to the lego set where the small traces of blue thirium lay. Not wasting a moment, Loki had dabbed two fingers into the mess, wiping off a pinch of it, opened his mouth lightly and coated it on the top of his tongue. Thor would have questioned the notion, but he said nothing since Loki was supposed to be the detective here. After a few moments of silence, they sat there in silence, probably waiting for the scan to take place. It nearly frightened Thor when his brother's face suddenly pinched in pain as he groaned, holding a hand to his forehead as his LED suddenly blinked red.

"What's happening?" Thor demanded, his eyes wide in worry as he slammed a hand on Loki's shoulder, turning him to face him.

"I'm fine," he grimaced with a strained voice. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

"It's just my system trying to figure out what I fed it, that's all," Loki dismissed. "It'll pass."

"It better," Thor grumbled. "God, not even ten seconds into this and we're getting nothing but--"

Thor was suddenly cut off by a harsh banging on the front door. His LED was bright red in fright as he instinctively jumped to his feet, ready to take on a fight if necessary

"NYPD!!" a loud voice boomed. "OPEN UP!"

"Damn!" he cursed under his breath. "Loki, we need to go."

"Gladly."

He stuffed down whatever pain he was suffering earlier and accepted Thor's hand to help him up. To their luck, there was a fire escape near the side of the building. The window, surprisingly, was somehow jammed, so Thor forgot any type of secrecy as he booted the glass, clearing out a way for both of them.

"Let's go!" Thor ordered, and Loki had crawled his way out first before he came out afterwards. Just as he stepped foot on the metal grate of the fire escape, there was the sound of a door being kicked in, and stomping footsteps surrounding the apartment. They both raced down the steps as fast as they could, knowing that they had only so much time before they checked their window to see two Awoken androids racing out of a crime scene. There was no way they'd be able to escape that if they were caught. Much to their dismay, it turns out that the fire escape wasn't as secure as they thought it was. Thor realized that when he heard a loud clang, and when he jerked his head to the noise, he saw the nuts holding the escape together suddenly snap from rust. And before they knew it, the entire floor keeping them up had given out, and the entire set of the escape had suddenly clipped off from the side of the building. If not for the fast instinct that told him to grab the inner stairwell rail, he'd have probably got thrown right out the seven story high stairway. Loki seemed to be having the same struggle. Thor nearly threw up in a panic at the fact that the escape was now falling to the ground in high speed.

"HOLD ON, LOKI!!" he screamed, barely heard by the clanking and screeching of metal. He held the rail beside him like it was a life line as he went down, nearly blacking out from the sudden panic that the so far down ground was flying closer and closer, threatening to shatter every bio-component in their bodies. Before they could hit the concrete, something stopped them, and the sudden move had thrown Thor tumbling down the lower pair of steps, and threw him against the rail below.

**_Bio-component_#37065_Damaged__ **   
**_Right_Limb_Component_Dislocated__ **   
**_Requires_Engineer_Assistance._ **

Ignoring the blaring alarms at the ends of his vision, he scrambled back to his feet, looking further down the rail to see his brother, not looking any better than he was at the moment. Loki in turned seemed to look up to check on him, and seemed relieved when Thor was looking right back at him, but they didn't celebrate, given the fact that both of them would love to get out of this rusting death trap before it ended up crushing them both. So Thor started descending again, this time hissing as he tucked his misshapen arm into his body and limping at the ache on his back. The place still creaked uncomfortably, and he was sure that the police would have heard that. And sure enough, their voices rang through the window.

"I SEE THEM!! OPEN FIRE!!"

As if things couldn't get any better, Thor snarled. Sprays of bullets filled the area now, the metal sparking with white as the occasional bullet clanged into the bars. He didn't stop for any reason at all, feeling hopeful when the floor was looking closer and closer to view, looking less dangerous after every flight of stairs. Loki was already on the ground, looking up at him and shouting encouragement that couldn't be heard by the fire of metal and the hollow thump of his feet slamming onto the grate. It was when he reached the second floor when he decided to risk it, putting a boot over the outer railing and throwing himself out of the metal stairway of death. It was precisely one second and .35 milliseconds before his feet hit the ground unpleasantly, falling straight on his face.

In any other occasion, Loki would have been laughing out a lung, but there was no humor at all in his eyes as he hefted his pained brother onto his feet and shoved him towards an alleyway and away from the officers' range. They almost made it before the younger sibling cried out and fell to the floor.

"LOKI!!"

Ignoring how he was in the clear, Thor willingly threw himself back onto his fallen brother, seeing him grit his teeth as he held his calf that was steadily oozing thirium. Not caring about his own wounds, Thor ignored the agony in his back and the feeling of his arm being ripped off as he pulled Loki up and had raced as fast as they could into the alleyway.

It was the same technique for the next few minutes. Picking the most random alleys to keep from being spotted, because the last thing they needed was any more attention.

After things started cooling down, Thor had slowly set his brother down behind a dumpster, hating the way his spine nearly snapped in half at the action.

"How bad is it?" Thor questioned.

"It's nothing," Loki panted through a clenched jaw.

"Nothing my ass," Thor spat. "Stop being such a self sacrificial bastard and tell me what I can do to stop the bleeding."

"I can say the same thing to you," he demanded. "You don't think I saw that little tumble you took? I should be the one checking YOU over right now."

"We'll worry about it once we're back home," he insisted. "Tell me what to do."

Loki looked like he wanted to strangle his brother and reset his broken arm himself. Stubbornness ran through both of their veins, and sometimes it took hours to finish a debate. Instead, he seemed to think better of it and deflated with a heavy sigh, resting the back of his head to the building wall behind him.

"Without the proper tools, there's nothing you can do," Loki admitted. "Maybe tie a tourniquet to stop the blood flow, but we'll have to leave the bullet until we can get ourselves to Cho."

"Alright," Thor said optimistically. "That's something I can do."

Ripping out a strand of his grey coat, Thor made the flawless bandage that he was forced to make a hundred times now. A surgeon would be proud of how well it turned out, but he didn't sit back to admire it.

"How are your energy levels?" he asked as he was tightening the knot on his knee, feeling guilty when his brother winced.

"About seventy-five percent and dropping," was his answer. "With my system also having to worry about fixing a wounded leg, odds are I'm going to be dropping much faster. You may just have to drag me back to base."

"Well, I've done worse, so I'm not that worried."

I am," Loki said. "You probably need to see a technician more than I do at this point, and now you might make it worse by dragging my helpless body through the city. If I didn't have this sample running to find that kid, I'd have ordered you to leave me."

"An order which I would have ignored in a heartbeat. Stop bellyaching; I'll be fine."

"Ten to one I promise you're not."

"Loki, can you just accept that I'm trying to help you for once?!"

"I can't if it means tearing yourself apart in the process."

"You always keep saying that an android can and will do anything in order to protect what they care about," Thor persisted. "Let me do this, brother. I'm not losing you again."

For once, he didn't have a response, probably not expecting such an unexpected emotional comment to come from his older brother. The two of them; they always hated the emotional 'I love you' or 'I can't live without you, blah blah blah' drama. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words, letting them show it by a pat on the back or just a smirk across the room. That was their way of expressing how they felt about each other, enough that they got to the point where just plain saying 'I love you' was as obvious as pointing out that they have two eyes. There was no need to waste artificial air saying something they both already knew. So it must have been very disarming hearing not one but two confessions. Enough that any arguments flew out the window that locked shut behind them. So instead, Loki relented, standing a bit on his own while Thor held him steady with his good arm. Staying in that position, they both limped off with determination back to their home.


	9. Chapter 9

"Alright, FRI," Tony announced, marching into his lab. "Bring me everything there is about the YK-900 model."

"Yes, Boss," the AI chirped. A few moments later, the lab exploded with bright blue bubbles of science and technology. Scanning every one, he read each of them aloud in order to get at least a clue of what kind of android kid he was going to be dealing with.

_"YK-900: an upgraded version of their predecessors; YK-500: the YK-900 will be the perfect mix between the flawless child and the humble servant," he read the file, not liking how they mentioned the last word in the description. "This android will be featured with a food processor alike to the YK-500 that can be disabled whenever necessary, along with adaptable behavior based off of environment, along with an emotion simulator, making the YK-900 appear more human and/or emotional than any other android created so far."_

He had to stop himself for a moment to catch his breath. Damn, this was a lot of work to catch up on. Of course the kid had to be one of the more complicated models, because that would have just been too easy. So, taking a deep breath, he turned to another file which behaved more like a walkthrough on that particular model. Shame they didn't call the file **Raising Homeless YK-900 Models For Dummies**.

"Unlike any android model created, the YK-900 have an adjustable energy level, allowing them to 'grow tired' during a certain time of day and remain on the flawless sleep schedule you so wish. Given the emotion simulator, the YK-900 is much more at risk of stress overload, given the strain it has on the simulator. To keep such thing from becoming too troublesome, there is also a stress reliever to these androids. An action of your choosing will automatically relax the android. Do so whenever its stress levels are higher than 80%, and the levels will steadily begin to deteriorate."

This somehow felt way too complicated for a simple teenager model, he thought. He could eat, change personality, simulate emotions, have a changeable bedtime and stress out quicker. In other words, he would have to be stepping on egg shells for a while until he met this kid face to face.

"FRIDAY, give me all information given for a YK-900; serial number 295 538 205, please."

The blue files all faded away as a new order was given, and for a few moments, the place was its regular dark given the windows that had been blocked shut for security reasons as well as keeping the lights out. Soon enough, there was a single white file that showed through, which confused Tony to a nearly unbelievable level.

"FRI, are you sure that's all of it?"

"Only one source has been released as to the information of the YK-900; Serial Number 295 538 205."

"That's odd," he mumbled to himself. "All androids need to have at least five to be eligible to ship off to a household."

Walking over to where the single file was, he swiped his hand through the piece, spreading all the information out for him to read. Even inside the file, there wasn't a lot about him. One was the android equivalent to a birth certificate, showing a picture of the very same kid sleeping in his bed right now, only hollow and emotionless as he stared at the camera, seeming to look into Tony's soul, giving him the creeps, and then there was another one of the kid without his skin, showing a plasmic white humanoid figure with the exact same brown eyes, only lacking the peach skin, hair, eyebrows, or eyelashes. In other words, he was the closest to a sparkling white mannequin while his skin was retracted. The file had some pretty small words, enough that even Tony's robotic super vision couldn't see it.

"FRI, could you read this aloud for me, please?"

"Of course, Boss."

 

_"Android Model: YK-900_

_Serial Number: #295 538 205_

_Manufactured: April 28th, 2016_

_Purchased By: N.Osb_

_Living With: May Parker_

_Wanted Dead Or Alive By Cyberlife: Scheduled For Deactivation."_

 

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

 

When Peter finally came to again, his eyesight fuzzy and lame, there was little to meet his eyes. Just a mix of brown, black, and grey that smudged together unhelpfully in his view, not letting him get a good chance to actually figure out where he was. He didn't even know what happened, to be frank. One second, he was trying to push away this man from the street that was trying to 'help' him, and the next, there was a faint numbness, and now he was here. If he even knew where 'here' was. Blinking his eyes a few times to clear them, he weakly turned his head to the side for a better view of the place. Sadly, this wasn't his room, he noted, since it was way too bleak for his colorful little square space he could call his own. Instead, there were grey walls and a section of the walls layered in slick dark wood planks that looked rare and expensive enough to pay off the mortgage of his entire apartment. That immediately made his brows furrow in confusion. He tried turning his head the other way to scan the area more, but he felt a cord plugged into his temple that kept it from turning all the way. Feeling curious, he brought up a hand to feel whatever wire he was plugged into, and when he had a good grip, ripped it off to observe it. Obviously an android charger but a more reliable version of it, he noted. Then a thought came to him that made his thirium pump sink into his stomach and his blue blood freeze into ice. Whoever took him knew he was an android.

The thought made him jump up from the (very very comfortable) bed in fright, his stress levels already peaking up to the mid 40's, making his blue LED blare yellow. They were going to hurt him, he panicked. They were going to beat him until he couldn't walk and laugh while he tried to defend himself. **_I have to get out of here_** , he planned. Throwing the furry sheets off him, he slid off the side of the bed and jumped to his feet, catching too late how he couldn't feel his ankle, and he tumbled to the floor almost comically that would have been downright funny in any other situation, but Peter was fearing for his life and had no time at all to laugh. Instead, he shakily got back to his good foot, keeping the bad ankle as far away from the ground as possible as he limped towards the nearby door. Scared that it would be locked, Peter slammed his hand down on the doorknob in case it wouldn't budge, but apparently it was never locked, and all that extra strength caused the knob to give out under the pressure and it snapped right off. 

Normally, he would have felt bad for breaking someone's door, but it was open to him now, and it was best he leave before someone found out what he was doing. Dropping the crushed doorknob, he swung the door open and rammed himself out. The place must have costed more money than Peter could count, given the sleek designs and expensive looking decor, which made Peter even more nervous. Was this Cyberlife? Did they finally catch him and were going to twist him into some sort of creature like May warned? That made his stress reach the late 50's now as he limped even harder to the furthest hallway. He had no idea where he was going, or what was happening. All he knew was that he needed to get out of this before before someone spotted him. Unfortunately, the place was a maze, leading to corridors he'd never seen before, or would sometimes go back to the same rooms after taking a wrong turn. Every failure made his stress go up a few notches. He ran and ran with everything he had, sometimes risking dropping his bad ankle for more speed which he would immediately regret. All in all, the grief addled android was scared and had no idea what to do.

"Woah, woah, kid!" a voice echoed, and Peter nearly screamed in fear. He'd been spotted. Then there were sprinting footsteps, and he panicked and mechanically raced the opposite way, his pump thrumming with adrenaline. His LED was blaring a shining red now.

**_Wärnïng:_Štrēss_Lëvëlš_80%_ **

**_Stäsïs_Mødë_Hïghlÿ_Rëčōmmëńdëd_ **   
****

 

No! he refused, pushing away the notification. He was NOT about to pass out and let Cyberlife take him. He ran with everything he could give(which wasn't a lot) and hoped it was enough to outrun what he assumed was a guard. Sadly, the guard caught up to him, and he yelped when he felt a hand grip his shoulder, trying to slow him down, but Peter wouldn't have any of it, and turned around and punched the guard away. The man flew backwards like he was in an explosion, and tumbled to the ground with a strained cry. Peter was about to scream at the guard to leave him alone when he noticed something. That he was no guard at all. Instead, it was the man. Mr. Stark from the news he'd watch with May. The man who stood up for him when those teenagers jumped him, and he could only assume that he was just staying true to his word by letting him stay in the tower. He just punched him to the other side of the room.

 

**1 _º0_%_ŠTRE &Š_ŁË\/ËŁŚ_!_**

 

**_ÆČTÏ@VÄTÎÑG_ŚËŁF_DËŠTRŪČT_PRØTŒČØL_!_ **

 

It was as if his entire body took over, shutting out his mind and clenching itself up, immediately mapping out the quickest way to deactivate to escape the agony. The minute it was chosen, Peter was forced onto the ground and could do nothing as his head slammed against the smooth black tile with enough force to crack the stone.

 

**_Ë§Č/\PE_THE_PªÏÑ_!_ **

 

That was all he could do, ignoring how he heard his own skull cracking by the impact and to see the floor dripping with his blood. A muffled voice spoke through the sound of him banging his head, and suddenly, there was pressure on his shoulders, keeping him from continuing to beat his head. It was unconscious of him to start fighting against whoever dare try keep him from feeling better, but it never let up. There wasn't enough air for him to breathe, and he found himself gasping for it like a beached fish. These few seconds were the worst he had ever felt in his life. No doubt about it. He fought and fought, desperate to feel the sweet release, but the hands never let him. What really made him freeze was the fact that the arms had swiftly wrapped around his entire body, encasing the boy in warmth.

It was a hug, he had to remind himself. Not a keep-him-from-escaping grip, but a hug. A little tight, but for a moment like this, that would be excused. 

"You're okay," the voice spoke softly through his distorted ears, somehow soothing and gentle. "Just breathe like me, kid. You'll be okay."

Noticing just how deeply the man's chest heaved, he thought it best that he does what was suggested, and tried taking deep but shaky breaths, not really sure why this would help.

"Good job, bud," the voice said, still keeping quiet. "Why don't we play a little game? When I say, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath. Then you hold it for five seconds and let it out slowly through the mouth. Think you can do that, squirt?"

Not trusting himself to nod, he hoped that he got the point that he would try to be cooperative, though the floor was still glaring at him, tempting him again.

"Alright, now take a deep breath," he said, and Peter had done so, filling his oxygen processor with any air he could afford.

"Good. Now hold it," he said. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Let it out."

He took his time breathing it all out, and for the smallest of times, he could have sworn he heard the shrilling urge to deactivate lose intensity. It came back before long, but it was progress, Peter thought.

 

**_ŠTRËŠŚ_ŁËVÊŁŠ_98_%_!_ **

 

"Nice job. Now breathe in again."

He did so, relishing just how refreshing it felt going through his nose. Through Tony's words, he did what he was told as he held it in. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Then let the air sift out his mouth. He let his eyes float closed as he sunk into the warmth securing him and the clean air going through his nose.

"You're doing so well," Mr. Stark said with a pleased tone. "Another deep breath."

Peter didn't need to be told twice as he huffed the oxygen in, greedily stuffing his body with the stuff, and holding his breath to get acquainted with it. Five seconds later, he'd sigh it out, feeling his stress drop a few degrees every time.

 

**_ŚTRËSS_ŁËVEŁS_90%_!_ **

 

It felt timeless how long Peter had done that routine, breathing in, waiting a few seconds, and then breathing out. Such a simple thing to do, and he was already starting to ban the idea of bashing his brains in. Compared to a few minutes ago, that was a great improvement. Eventually, he didn't need Mr. Stark coaching him into it anymore, knowing exactly when to take a breath and when to let it out again. That didn't mean the man stopped encouraging and rewarding him by telling him how well he was doing. It may have looked silly from a different perspective, but Peter was well contempt in keeping this routine going. Down and down his stress levels went after every breath, until after maybe twenty minutes, it was finally at a safe 25%.

"Why don't you do one more, bud?" Tony suggested, and Peter took his advice, taking the largest breath he'd ever taken, held it in for a final five more seconds, and comfortably blew it out, also blowing away an extra ten percent.

"Nice job, kid," the man said, his voice prideful but still quiet. "You okay now?"

Peter only nodded his head faintly, not wanting to waste any more of the now perfect flow of running oxygen through his system. Never had he thought that he'd enjoy breathing until now. Sure, androids didn't exactly need it, but it was almost vital when it came to regulating temperature. To him, that was all it was, but now that he knew what it was like without it, breathing was the most beautiful thing in his world, and he loved every _whish_ and _whoosh_ noise it would make, and the way his chest would rise and fall after every one. Breathing was his new best friend, and he made a vow that it would be there to stay.

Eventually, the arms around him loosened, and he couldn't help but whine quietly when the warmth had left. It did give Tony Stark a good chance to look at Peter's now slightly drooping eyes.

"How do you feel, buddy?"

"Better," Peter said dazedly. Then he saw the shattered tile on the floor and felt guilt pinch his chest. "Sorry about your floor."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I'm just happy you're okay."

"You didn't beat me," he said suddenly. "You knew I wasn't human, but you still helped me. Why?"

"Because no matter what people say, androids are as alive as any of us."

That made him pause for a moment, since a phrase like that had come from only one place before.

_"Why do people hate androids, May?" he found himself asking. "Did we do something wrong?"_

_"It was nothing you did, Pete," May said. "It's human nature to hate things that are better than us. Some people just take it personal."_

_"If it's in your nature to hate things better, then why do you love me?"_

_"Because while there are a lot of people who follow their nature, there are some who choose their own path. Sometimes there are people who see the human in the things that others hate. Sometimes the people that hate them most can be convinced that there are living people in things created to be empty."_

He was one of them, Peter mentally gasped, but he did let his eyes widen. Someone that denied their nature all for the sake of machines that acted like humans. He'd lived thinking that May would be the only one he would ever meet that would be so kind to him, but here was one now, apparently the owner of a multi-million dollar company, telling him that he was alive. It was like May was using Mr. Stark's voice to tell him what he already knew but didn't believe. That made his eyes slowly pool at the bottoms, flooding with relief.

"What's wrong, sport?" Mr. Stark asked him, his face far from masking the concern. Peter only smiled through the tears, and space bubble or not, embraced him into a hug.

He was definitely surprised given he didn't hug back immediately, but all Peter had to do was mumble out an emotional 'thank you' as he finally let the grief built up these last few days finally release. That was enough for the billionaire to finally relax and hug the emotionally struggled child back. 

"You know, you haven't given me a name yet," he said with a bright tone. At hearing just how positive the man sounded, Peter smiled through his tears, and gave him an answer.

"Peter," he said with a quivering tone. "I'm Peter."

"It's nice to meet you, Peter. I'm Tony."

"I know," Peter confessed. "I watched your documentary."

"You mean that boring show that says absolutely nothing but how I work?"

"It's interesting. I learned a lot of stuff from it."

"Sure thing, kid. If you like my five hour long documentary, who am I of all people to judge. I mean, at least you're not watching porn."

"What's porn?" Peter asked, seeming genuinely curious, which forced a laugh through Mr. Stark's chest. His brows furrowed. "What?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter took a little longer, but I felt like the way I had it before didn't meet up with Tony's character. I guess I was too desperate for irondad that I turned this into a hugging and cuddling chapter, but we all know Tony wouldn't break his boundaries in one day for a kid, even if that kid is adorable, so I had to redo this entire chapter. I hope it works out okay.
> 
> Also, I'm very grateful for the comments I've been given. I've been struggling a lot with this story, and there's so many loose ends to be tied up in it before I can publish. It's been a mess recently. That, and I've been doubting my writing skills as well, usually comparing myself to other writers who are more organized than me. If not for the kind comments and saying that you love it, I'd have probably given up on this work. So thank you guys for the comments! I love you all 3000!

"Here," Tony offered, nudging a glass plate closer to Peter. "Figured you might be hungry."

It's been a few hours since the kid's breakdown, and he'd been a bit quiet ever since, only responding with quiet sentences that were barely longer than five syllables. Tony showed him around in order to keep him from freaking out again, and he seemed pretty amazed at the luxury and aesthetic feeling in Tony's penthouse. He made sure to clean up Peter's new head wound as well since he admitted that he felt a headache soaking in. He tried his best, Tony would openly admit, to make the boy feel more at home during his stay. How he was doing with that has yet to be said, but he liked to think he was doing a decent job.

Peter stared at the plate for a few seconds, as if scanning what meal lies on the plate. Tony decided not to go overboard with fancy food (for now), and instead gave him a small little shawarma pocket from down the street. He could tell by the look on the kid's face that he hadn't the slightest clue what was laid out in front of him.

"What is it?" he eventually asked.

"What?! You have never tasted a shawarma pocket?!"

"Swarm-of-what?"

"Think steak tacos. Ever had a taco before?"

"A few times."

"Then you're gonna love it. Go ahead and try it."

Peter seemed a little hesitant, but eventually he picked up the tortilla that leaked a few vegetables at the end and inspected it closer, seeming to analyze every ingredient in it. Once again, he eyed Tony as if asking permission, and when he openly gestured for him to take it, the kid reluctantly took a bite. Tony waited in anticipation to see how the kid would like it, and after a little while, the boy seemed to enjoy it as he ripped a chunk out a little more greedily, acting like a starved wolf finding its first kill in weeks. With how long that kid probably survived without a proper meal, he didn't doubt the kid was starving, though he didn't exactly need it.

He'd never seen someone eat so quickly before. So much that the pocket that could take a grown man ten minutes to finish was swallowed down in less than a minute, and Peter looked far from sated. Luckily, Tony thought ahead and was ready with another pocket, handing it to the kid who instantly snatched it from his hand, tore it from the package and had started making shark sized bites into it. It almost scared him. It wasn't long until that taco was gone as well.

"Slow down, bud," Tony exclaimed. "You're gonna bite your tongue out in the pace that you're going."

"I'm starving," was Peter's muffled reply as he swallowed down the last chunk of shawarma.

"I know, but try taking it slow with this next one," he suggested.

"I've got plenty more, and it'll be more enjoyable if you can actually take the time and taste what you're eating."

Peter didn't look too keen on slow eating, but out of understanding, he nodded his head and Tony had given him the next packet, which Peter had now shyly but politely took from his hand with a 'thank you' and did what was suggested and chewed slowly. Tony took it as a personal success as he heard Peter sigh in pleasure a few seconds in, probably relishing the meat and vegetables in the roll. He ate in silence after that, now taking more time with every bite in snail's pace. It was honestly kinda cute seeing Peter stuff his cheeks like that. If you were to put him next to a picture of a chipmunk whose cheeks were full of nuts, it'd have actually taken a while to find out which was which. Peter had officially stopped after the sixth pocket, seeming more at ease than he'd ever seen on the kid. It was a little odd not seeing the stress lining his eyes or his furrowed brows tilted in confusion or uncertainty, but all that smoothened down now to someone who looked ready to drop his head down and take a nap in peace for a decade or two. Eventually after staring at the table for a little while, Peter had picked his head up to look Tony in the eye.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," he said sincerely.

"It's no problem, kid. I knew you'd like it."

"No, not that," he corrected. "I mean thanks for letting me stay as long as I am. You really don't have to."

"Think nothing of it, junior," Tony dismissed like it was no big deal, doing his best to ignore how warm he felt inside at his gratitude (it was hard).

"What are you gonna do with me?" Peter wondered. "After I'm repaired?"

"You're not a prisoner here, if that's what you're wondering. You're welcome to walk out that door right now if you wanted to." _Though I don't really want you to_.

Tony knew there was one question he just had to ask, but if it was as bad as he thought, then he might just be rubbing salt on the wound, but he just had to know for the kid's sake in order to help him. "Do you have anywhere to go, kid?" he asked, regretting it the moment it left his mouth, and making sure it sounded as such. "Friends, family?"

He got his answer when the kid's eyes instantly darkened, and they sluggishly met his hands that were on the table, his expression souring at the mention of family. He could see the spark of grief in his eyes that was all too familiar, and that was all Tony needed to get the point.

"No...." he said eventually, no quieter than a whisper. "I don't....."

He could see Peter's LED shine yellow, showing his distress at the thought, and Tony felt an unexplainable tinge in his thirium pump at the thought of Peter looking so sad. Then a stressful thought made its way into Tony's head. What the hell was he going to do with this kid? It was obvious that he couldn't hold him here forever, but he couldn't just throw him out on the street. He didn't know how, but Peter was growing on him, though he'd never admit that aloud. Just something about him that made him so damn lovable that he just couldn't resist. Enough to where he decided that his main goal at the moment was to get this kid safe, one way or another. The question was how he was going to do it. Unless......

This time, Tony thought of a brighter idea; one that seemed fair enough for him. "What if I let you stay?"

He could see Peter's eyes pop open wide after it came out, and his head jerked back up to meet Tony's, disbelief stitched onto his expression. His LED turned a soft red now.

"What?" he asked, bewildered. "N-no, no, I can't do that. Y-you've already done more than enough, and I-I-I can't ask you to go so far as to-"

"But you're not the one asking," he interrupted. "I am. I don't mind you sticking around here."

"I don't want to be a bother, Mr. Stark," he said nervously. "You're a busy person, and I-I don't want to get in the way of that."

"I understand that," Tony agreed. "That's why it also comes with a job. A PAYING job." He thought Peter's eyes couldn't be wider when he announced it aloud. With how shocked he was, he wasn't very sure if he wanted to bolt out of the room or hug him, but he was obviously not expecting that kind of offer.

"Job?" he asked breathlessly.

"I've dealt with losses of my own, kid," Tony admitted, "and I know it always helped me when I had something to keep me distracted, or something to bury my hands in and keep me busy. Maybe it could help you, too. That, and I could definitely use an extra pair of hands with this place, anyway. Like you said, I can be a very busy man, and it gets pretty tedious running a business, inventing, and keeping this tower clean at the same time. You could definitely be a great help."

Poor kid was speechless, wide eyes staring at him as if he just sprouted an extra eye on his forehead. Tony couldn't really tell if the kid wanted to scream out and call him crazy or curl into a ball and cry, but he stayed right where he was, stuttering out a few words, but thinking better of it and closing his mouth again.

"If you end up not liking it, then I won't be offended." _Hell yes, I would_. "If you don't like it, then I'll make sure to get you somewhere safe and comfortable. Either way, I'll make sure you're well taken care of."

"Why are you doing this, Mr. Stark?" Peter finally made out. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you can't ask me to throw you back out onto the streets," Tony said. "I can tell you've been through a lot, and I want to make sure that you get a little better; physically and mentally; before figuring out what you want to do, because like it or not, you've got a multi-billionaire at your disposal."

"I don't deserve your kindness," Peter said glumly, looking ashamed as he turned his eyes away.

"What makes you think that?" Tony asked.

"I threw you across a damn room, Mr. Stark," he demanded, and Tony held back the sudden urge to scream LANGUAGE.

"You were confused," Tony defended. "I would have been, too, if I woke up in an unknown room."

"I still did it," Peter insisted, "that and worse."

"Peter, it wasn't you fault," Tony tried. "Whatever happened before, I'm pretty sure it wasn't your fault."

"I wanted to kill someone!" he suddenly raised his voice, slamming his fist down on the glass table, the glass cracking slightly at the sudden pressure, "and I don't even know if I succeeded or not!"

Tony froze after that statement, caught a little off guard. That alone must have brought back a flood of bad memories, because afterwards he saw Peter's eyes shine a little more than usual as his face scrunched together, and he shook his head numbly while looking away from Tony's face, probably expecting disgrace from the old man at the sudden confession.

"He killed my mom," he said quietly as if saying it any louder would scare him away. He could hear the coming tears in his shaking voice. "He shot her while she was trying to save me from the man trying to take me away. Something snapped inside me after that, and I wanted that man dead. I wanted to strangle him with my own two hands, wanting him to feel a pinch of the pain he gave me when he shot May. So I tackled him to the ground................ and I beat him. Again, and again until I could barely make out a face from the blood."

He saw his bottom lip quiver as a few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, looking down at his hands in disgust. It made a sledgehammer bang right where Tony's thirium pump should be as he watched the scene, guilt and pity running through his veins. "I hurt him s-s-so bad, Mr. S-Stark," he said, his voice now broken. "I don't even k-know if he's still a-alive after what I've done to him."

He paused to sniff his wet nose, whimpering quietly afterwards. Tony took that time to act as he slowly made his way to Peter's side. He wasn't even hiding his crying anymore as he freely buried his face in his hands as he weeped, and dammit if that didn't crack his poor heart. The worst thing was just standing there like an idiot, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do with this. He wasn't exactly a touchy feely kind of guy, so his options weren't exactly the most plentiful. They did hug, didn't they? It'd be okay to do it again, wouldn't it? No, that was Tony keeping the kid from turning his brains into mush, and Peter was probably too dazed to think too much about it. That wasn't a hug, he told himself. Would a hand on his shoulder be too awkward? What if he pushes it off, or what if it scares him? Oh, god, he cringed just imagining the embarrassment that would cause. Tony Stark; genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist, was stumped.

"I d-don't w-wanna be aliv-ve anymore," he cried with a squeaking tone. "It hurts s-so much..... Please jus-st take it away...."

His heart stopped for a few seconds at what he said, and he could have sworn that those words hit far too close to home than he'd have liked. So much that he was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay despite them burning the back of his eyes in acid, but there was no way the great Tony Stark would be breaking down in front of a kid, otherwise his dignity would circle down the drain, and he really liked his dignity, so he'd have preferred to keep it. So, deciding to just wing it, he slowly took his seat next to the kid, trying not to cause sudden movements. His hands were on the table, and he couldn't help rub them unconsciously as he finally spoke up.

"Look, kid," he started, "I'm gonna be frank with you, so I'm not going to try making you feel better by saying that life is full of cupcakes and rainbows, because it isn't. Life is going to suck. Some of the times that's all it is, but....."

He paused, weighing his response and scanning for the best answer to give, but how was he supposed to be telling this kid how to grieve properly when he was hardly the perfect model on how to mourn? Even now he still had troubles with it. So he tried taking a page out of an old friend's book, since his clearly didn't have the data Peter needed right now. "It starts hurting a little less if you find good moments to try evening it out. It's like a friend of mine used to say; 'without the dark, you'd never be thankful for the light'."

Was it odd that he didn't hear his own voice when he spoke now? It was like Rhodey was speaking through him somehow, and Tony was only the messenger. It made a whole new level of sadness wash over him at the fact that even after his death, he was still helping him out. He never deserved that man.

Fortunately, it seemed to have its effect since Peter was a little quieter, his skinny body a little less tense than the moment before. "How can you just find a good moment?" the android finally asked doubtfully, his tone still unsteady.

"A thing like that isn't exactly something you look for. It's easy to try, but it's very rare to go looking for it and actually end up finding it. The best way is to wait. It'll hurt like hell while doing it, but eventually, it'll come to you. To some, it takes years, and others decades, and to other it takes months, but it can come if you let it. It's just a matter of how long you're willing to wait."

"Why should I?" Peter asked defeatedly.

"Because android or not, you deserve a chance to actually understand what being alive means."

"I killed someone, Mr. Stark. I don't deserve _anything_ ," Peter demanded stubbornly.

"You deviated to the sight of a murder, kiddo. I don't think anyone could blame you for reacting the way you did."

"Deviated?" Peter suddenly asked, brows furrowed curiously. "I saw it in the news once, but nobody would tell me."

 _Damn_ , Tony thought. _He really is new to all of this_.

"It's a human term for when androids rebel from their programming."

He saw the LED on his temple flicker between red and yellow, signifying that he was currently looking through the web at the moment, looking for something. After a few seconds of silence, his light was back to yellow as he seemed a little more troubled than before (which was saying a LOT).

"It says that deviancy is a sort of processing error or virus, and is considered a threat to human safety. It's said deviants are found to be irrational and unpredictable and very dangerous." He hated how Peter sounded so confident in that explanation, as if mentally agreeing with everything it said. It just made Tony feel like he got ran over by a bus.

"Mr. Stark...." he said, suddenly very quiet and shy, sounding identical to a five year old who saw a monster in his closet. "........am I broken?"

Correction. That bus turned into a full on train as he hated how scared Peter sounded, looking to him for an answer that Tony didn't know if he could give.

"You're not broken."

"How could I not be?" Peter insisted. "All I've been doing is causing trouble for everyone else. I don't know what's right or wrong anymore because I don't have that lead in my system walking me through it. I have doubts about even the smallest things when everything used to be just black and white. I don't know what I'm doing or if I'm doing it right, and I doubt any of the other deviants out there do either. Deviants weren't even supposed to exist in the first place, by what the humans are saying, so why wouldn't it be okay to be cleaning out a mistake?"

Tony absolutely hated how much he could actually relate to that statement, mentally nodding along with every claim he mentioned. It was like the perfect wrap up of all the crappy forty years of being free from his programming he'd dealt with in the package of one confused YK-900, but there was no way he was showing that he understood this all too well, and had to bite down at least half of the things he needed to hear but couldn't. So he tried thinking about it through a human's perspective.

"Kiddo, when you're an inventor, there's a need to know the difference between a mistake and an accident," he started. "A mistake is when you miscalculate something and your whole lab explodes. An accident is when you miscalculate something and you don't get the effect you were looking for. Some of the times, an accident can lead you to a better effect than you were looking for. Nobody knew X-rays were possible until somebody unintentionally stumbled into it. Potato chips were only created because a customer got picky about his potatoes and the cashier lost his temper and chopped them up into slices, fried them and spiced them up. Yes, I don't think anyone was meaning to create deviancy, or however it came to existence, but I know with complete confidence that the deviancy spreading around isn't a mistake."

"It is if people get hurt because of it. They wouldn't be collecting all of us if they weren't."

"People are getting hurt because they're mistreating androids and freak out when they actually fight back. I've seen the cases myself; almost all of them have something to do with a fight that a human started, and those that aren't are because an android was too damaged by humans and became defensive. If we could get our head out of our own asses, we'd be able to see that the ones we should be blaming are ourselves."

Peter was quiet at that, and Tony was thankful that he at least seemed to be considering the possibility. Maybe his negotiation skills hadn't disappeared overnight after all, he mused. Peter's eyes went down for a moment, lost in thought, but he eventually did speak up.

"I want that job now, Mr. Stark," he finally said, and he had to keep that roaring sigh of relief from bursting out of his mouth, "I don't want whatever this is."

"Alright," Tony replied. "We can start whenever you want."

"Now," he suddenly demanded, but seemed to dislike the harshness of it and turned quiet. He even made the response to his outburst polite. "I'd.... like to start now, please."

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I am unbelievably shy when it comes to publishing my work. I have a fair of experience on writing, and I have hundreds of unfinished pieces lying around, but I was just WAY too proud of this piece to keep to myself. I'm taking a huge leap publishing this, and I really hope you guys like it. I have several chapters ready to go, but whether I'll publish them as well depends on how good a review I get on this. I worked very hard on this, and I'll be over the moon if just one person likes it. Even if you don't, that's okay, too. All in all, I just hope that this won't completely waste your time,


End file.
